


Crimson Spiral

by minhyukwithagun (deadlylampshades)



Series: 1004 - Code Name: Angel [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tokyo Ghoul, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Ghouls, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It All Ends Well, M/M, Power Dynamics, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlylampshades/pseuds/minhyukwithagun
Summary: Junior Investigator Hyungwon was prepared to hunt #113, the Binge-Eater, to the edges of Tokyo and beyond. He should be grateful so much was not demanded of someone so young. He should be relieved that #113 is safely contained in the fortress that is the Cochlea. He should forget all about him.He can't.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk
Series: 1004 - Code Name: Angel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761427
Comments: 35
Kudos: 183





	Crimson Spiral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Auber_Gine_Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/gifts).



> hi there!! just a little warning before going any further, this is a tokyo ghoul au and has all the canon typical violence and themes associated with this including blood, gore and discussions of cannibalism. familiarity with the series is a bonus, but not required! if you are new, this is what a [kagune](https://66.media.tumblr.com/cd0d4d963a4ef3564d7ca4621d3346f0/tumblr_o23d4l664K1v62oblo1_500.gif) looks like and are a ghoul's predatory organ and this is what a [quinque](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/tokyo-ghoul-la/images/2/2a/Quinque.gif/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20150227152254&path-prefix=es) looks like, which is a weapon made from kagune. 
> 
> this fic is part of a larger collaboration with the wonderfully talented [Leesa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/pseuds/Auber_Gine_Dreams)! characters and themes will overlap with the other works and while it's not a required read, I strongly recommend it when it comes out so be sure to subscribe to the series! 💕
> 
> further than this, here is the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pogUevMvEZxhEDSoD5fT9?si=ALKnrvevRJyt8cX92dTyEA), I hope you enjoy and I'll see you in the end notes!

### Cochlea Visitor's Log

(Restricted access. Only the Commission of Counter Ghoul officials permitted. All CCG officials MUST carry identification at all times and follow safety protocols. Visitor’s log must be completed with prisoner specification, rank followed by number of instances.)

### VISIT: #113 — Second Rank Junior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 1

“Have you gotten enough sleep lately? You’ve got such terrible bags under your eyes. I'm just a little worried about your health,” #113 says. The viciousness of his smile is not mitigated by the thick layers of glass that severs them.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Hyungwon’s grip tightens on his briefcase. 

He juts his bottom lip out. “God, no. That would be so unfunny, wouldn’t it? Come on, I’ll show you a proper one. Knock knock.”

#113’s face has always caused disgust to build in the base of Hyungwon's gut. Not because he’s disfigured or grotesque, no, rather the opposite. With sculpted angular features and shining eyes, he has always appeared almost _radiant_ , such a dark contrast to his action. “You might be facing a lifetime in this cell and have hours to spare but I'm a busy man. Are you really going to waste my time like this?”

“That’s not how the joke goes. You’re supposed to say ‘ _who’s there_ ’.”

Grinding his teeth has always been an unfortunate habit of his, most likely a result of many years spent under instructors that forbade confrontation or questioning. “I’m not here to play your fucking games, #113. You need to answer my questions. I guarantee you don’t want to know the consequences of resistance.” He thinks he does a good job of bluffing.

“I don’t,” #113 crosses his arms. “Tell me all about them. Be as explicit as you like.”

Well. That didn't go how Hyungwon would have preferred it. Authority comes with experience, and despite how his backaches might protest, he's still young. A second rank investigator struggling his way through life, has no kind of outcome over such a dangerous ghoul’s fate. He shouldn’t even be here, really. Every single person in this prison outranks him by a mile — he’s only here because of _their_ history. Vague and empty threats are his only weapon. All he can hope is that his interrogation yields results, the quinque in his briefcase all but useless.

“I owe you nothing." Hyungwon straightens his spine. Attempts to regain his composure. “You are the one locked up."

"Sucks, right? I wish this place had better wallpaper. So sick of eggshell white everywhere." #113 clicks his tongue against his teeth in disapproval.

Hands curl into fists at Hyungwon's side. "#113, why did you imprison me?”

“Because I like you.” And then #113 winks.

Years and years of repressive self-control is all that keeps Hyungwon from slamming his fist into the glass. He can imagine it now, the shocked look on that _monster's_ face, the confusion in his eyes, the way his jaw would drop, right before Hyungwon’s hand wraps around his throat and wrings the life out of him.

“You injured me, you stabbed me and locked me in the wet and dark sewers for a _week_. And you expect me to believe that it’s because you…” Hyungwon trails off, unable to keep his voice from shaking. He needs to calm down, he can feel his shoulder begin to bleed again. It’s difficult, though. Hatred washes over him like a wave.

#113 gives a dismissive nod. “Don’t be dramatic. You’re clearly alive, aren’t you?”

Something one of the special class investigators emphasized to him once was the importance of maintaining a clear head. Even when your opponent proceeds to tear down each and everyone of your emotional and physical walls, and sends attack after attack, a mind free of distractions is the only way to ensure victory. Hyungwon has to repeat this to himself three times in a single minute. He still thinks he wants to throttle him.

“You are purposefully defiant. In my professional capacity, it is my decision that you need more time alone with your thoughts. With dedicated effort and relentless self-examination, maybe then you'll realize it's in your best interests to cooperate with us, #113,” Hyungwon says. Schools the rage out of his voice. “But I will be back later. You will break.”

He doesn’t see him shrug, but as he swipes his keycard and the cell door swings open, he hears that husky voice call after him: “I guess we aren't on first name basis yet, Investigator? Really sad. You _know_ mine's Minhyuk and yet you still call me by that number. How dehumanizing of you.”

### VISIT: #113 — Second Rank Junior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 2

“Oh, you’re here earlier than last time. Was traffic lighter?” #113 asks. He’s so slender and angular that when he sits on his bed, legs crossed, it almost seems posed like a model from one of the electronic billboards over the highway. He seems excited to see Hyungwon, his face lighting up. This doesn’t fill Hyungwon with any joy. The last time he saw him with eyes that eager, he’d proceeded to pierce Hyungwon’s shoulder through with his kagune and slam him into the depths of the sewer. Thinking about the injury is enough to make him recoil, the bandage tight around the muscle.

“It was great, thanks for asking,” Hyungwon says humourlessly. “I’m not interested in playing your games.”

“You never are,” he pouts. “You don’t even know how fun I can be at cards.”

On the train ride here, Hyungwon emphasized to himself the importance of keeping his head clear, and not letting the ghoul play with his emotions. Moments in, and he already gives up on that. It comes out as a snarl: “Why did you imprison me in the sewers for a week? Did you have plans to eat my flesh later? Or did you just want me to have a slow and painful death like the psychopath that you are?”

“ _Ooooh_ ,” #113 harmonizes. Against all odds, there’s a pleasant tone to the note. “Getting right to the point today? Aren’t you going to ask me how I’m doing?”

“No.”

“Good thing I’ll tell you anyway! So, today, I was walking around my cell, yeah? Yesterday I was also walking around my cell. The day before, wait — yes, you guessed it! I was walking around my cell,” #113 finishes with a flourish and then he droops like a wilted flower. “It’s rather boring put out like that.”

“If you’re expecting me to feel pity for you, it’s not going to happen,” Hyungwon replies. “You deserve to be here.”

“I mean, yes I did what you say I did, but does that mean I have to be miserable?” He asks out of performatory bewilderment.

“Sounds about right.”

What right does the ghoul have to look so _offended_? “Do you have a heart of stone?”

The remark itches under his skin. In order to get anywhere in this job to a position where he can make an actual difference, he’s had to lock away every single part of him that makes him an unsuitable CCG employee. He sets four alarms in the morning so he’ll never be late. Time has eroded many of his former friendships, Hyungwon just has nothing to talk to them about besides his work, and he can’t summon up the compassion to care about their lives to any sort of meaningful degree.

Hyungwon was not like stone when this happened. It hurt watching himself sever more and more from people he once enjoyed, but he knew it was a requirement of the job. Tamping down any extreme emotion has been the result of careful compartmentalization — Hyungwon doesn't appreciate the assumption that this was easy. He also doesn’t appreciate that #113 manages to provoke reactions out of him, despite this.

“You look so mad at me,” #113 snorts. “Come on, what have I done to you that’s so unforgivable?”

Before Hyungwon thinks about it too hard, he drops his briefcase on the floor. The quinque inside it rebounds against the outer shell. In a swift movement he undoes his tie and it falls to the floor. #113 raises his eyebrows.

“Now I’m very interested.” His voice is a purr.

Hyungwon unbuttons his shirt enough to reveal the span of his collarbones — and his bandaged shoulder. Already, blood stains the white. “You have _brutalized_ me. Multiple times. This wound has become infected because, among other reasons, I was in the fucking _sewers_ instead of recieving medical attention.”

#113’s gaze is fixed upon his shoulders. Something like hunger is in his gaze. “Alright, yeah, I see your point. But don’t pretend like you’re that much better. Have you forgotten all the times you’ve broken my body in pieces with your quinque? You once tore off my entire arm.”

“And? You clearly regrew it.” It’s right there, identical to his left. If someone saw him standing here wearing the Cochlea prisoner’s uniform, it would be impossible to believe merely months earlier it had been severed off.

He remembers the moment with visceral clarity. An abandoned parking lot. Reports of the Binge-Eater had funneled through to their phones, and Hyungwon and Investigator Lee ran as fast as they could. They’d only just arrived, caught sight of #113’s sunshine hair. Investigator Lee had clicked open his briefcase, his quinque splintering out. An eerie silence filled the air. Hyungwon had looked to the side for a moment, sensing movement, and when he looked back — Investigator Lee’s blood spilled out of his mouth, his eyes drifting down at the shimmering crimson kagune pierced through his abdomen. Hyungwon remembers staring for longer than he should have, unable to remove his gaze, the horror imprinting on his eyelids.

“You again?” #113 had said, his voice echoing off of the roof. “You’re just making things difficult for yourself.”

Investigator Lee had a superior quinque, a new one constructed from a ghoul he’d dispatched a week earlier, had bragged about it the day before. Hyungwon would never dare use it though, knew that as deficient as his own quinque might be, his experience with it would make for it, and he cracked open his own briefcase.

Later, Hyungwon will acknowledge the only reason he escaped that encounter was luck. Speed was natural to #113, and it was only through an accident that he was able to strike through his right side, dismembering the limb. The shock halted #113. Hyungwon was relentless in the punishment that followed. The ghoul escaped, of course he did — leaving Hyungwon with bruises, a severed arm and a warm corpse.

“Just because it heals, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt?” #113’s tone has become almost whiny. “Do you want to know what it feels like to have your entire arm ripped off? I imagine it’s only a _little_ like what I did to your shoulder.”

“This is not a comparable situation,” Hyungwon’s teeth grit together. “You regenerate. _You_ are a monster.”

He shrugs. “So? What are _you_ gonna do about it?” And then smirks as he suggests, “ _Throw me in jail_?”

Every single conversation with #113 just reinforces every trace of unspeakable bloodlust Hyungwon possesses, the kind he tries to bury underneath layers and layers of civil attitudes and ironed suits. He’s not a violent man, screams of pain unsettle his very core and he hates when his boots are stained red — but every aspect of Minhyuk seems designed to attack him personally, to get under his skin and annoy him all the way inside. 

“I wish I had that honour,” Hyungwon says. “But they tell me that you came quietly. Why?”

There’s a snort. “It shouldn’t surprise you. The CCG had already found my hideout and killed most of my close associates. I knew what was coming. I just didn’t want to end up as one of those godawful abomination you use as weapons.”

Honesty was unexpected. “My quinque?”

#113’s gaze drifts down to the briefcase. He shudders. “Do you have any idea how _nauseating_ those things are? Apparently extermination of ghouls aren’t enough, you have to resort to taxidermy.”

“You’re that appalled by quinques?” Hyungwon raises his eyebrow.

“Surprised that I’m not a fan of the idea that all you want to do is tear apart my corpse and pull out my kagune so you can fix it into these swords just to kill more of my kind? Yeah. I’m not. It’s sick, you know.”

The back of Hyungwon’s neck prickles. “That’s…”

“True? Is that not exactly what you do?” #113 says, blinking innocently. “That day you took off my arm? Your partner? The one I so 'mercilessly' killed? Do you know your partner was using my _friend_?” Hyungwon doesn’t allow a single emotion to pass through his face. “I could recognize that kagune everywhere. Teal like that was so characteristic of Siyeon. I hadn’t heard from her in a few days, but I thought she’d be fine. She’s so strong and clever. She’d never get caught. How horrible it was to find out what actually happened.”

“I have no sympathy for you or your friends.”

#113 almost seems disappointed in Hyungwon’s reaction. “That’s something I just find so unfair. A CCG investigator dies and it’s over every TV station in Tokyo. There’s funerals, there’s eulogies, there’s obituaries. Meanwhile, when a ghoul dies, a _friend_ dies, I never even know. Best I can hope for is an eyewitness. Perhaps worse though is seeing their kagune turned into a weapon. It’s one thing knowing you’re too late to save them — another knowing that you’ll never even be able to say that they have peace now.” 

Thorough thinking is an important part of the job. Even so, Hyungwon never really took the opportunity to wonder how ghouls take the loss of their own. They are like humans in nearly every way, it shouldn’t be _surprising_ to find out that they feel grief as strongly as anyone else — but it’s a different matter for Hyungwon to have to acknowledge it, to see it in the corners of Minhyuk’s scowl, in the droop of his brows.

“You have _no_ right to act like this,” Hyungwon’s grip tightens on the briefcase. Defensively, almost as if he’s worried #113 will take his quinque away. “You’ve done so much worse.”

“Want to give me an example?”

“You imprisoned me for a week in the sewers. _Why_?”

“Look at you, asking this like the answer’s changed,” #113 rolls his eyes. “And that doesn’t count at all.”

His shoulder starts to throb and Hyungwon has to be careful. He doesn’t want to bother anyone with changing his bandages again. He inhales. Picks his tie up off the ground, and realizes, belatedly, there’s no mirror here. Unwilling to walk past the atrium on his way out looking in such a state of distress, Hyungwon steps closer to the glass until he can see his own reflection back at him.

With methodical fingers, Hyungwon knots his tie. So close to the barrier between them, it’s like he’s looking straight at #113. And #113 looks back. The silence becomes so pronounced Hyungwon starts to wonder if #113 will launch into one of his insane tangents again, but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. Even in such proximity with so much potential for his babbling, he remains quiet.

“You shouldn’t be working if your shoulder is still that wounded,” #113 says after a moment.

“It’s fine,” Hyungwon says. “You’ll have to work harder than that to kill me.”

“The more strain you put on it, the longer it’ll take to heal.”

“I don’t need medical advice from a _ghoul_.”

#113’s frown becomes more pronounced. “Fine. Don’t take my advice.”

“Good. I won’t. The only thing that matters to me about you, #113, is the information you can give me.”

In the pronounced silence that follows, the last thing he says before Hyungwon walks out is: “The least you could do is call me by my name.”

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Choi Seungcheol — Occurrence 3

### VISIT: #113 — First Rank Junior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 4

Hyungwon hesitates outside the cell door, keycard in his palm. Normally he wouldn’t second guess — but he hears voices from inside. And that’s not how it’s supposed to be. Minhyuk is insane, certainly, but he’s the 'unrepentant murderous' kind, not the 'talking to the voices in his head' kind. Who else would visit him?

He swipes open the door.

“Hyungwon!” Seungcheol exclaims in shock. When realization sets in, a smile spreads across his face. “Oh, Hyungwon, how wonderful it is to see you. I thought you were still on medical leave.” He pauses. “You _should_ be, right?”

Seungcheol is such a soothing presence that for a moment, Hyungwon forgets they are in a high security prison, with his nemesis mere sheets of glass away. Instead, it feels like two friends meeting by chance at a coffeeshop, able to reconnect after their busy lives keep them apart.

“I’m resting, don’t worry,” Hyungwon placates.

Seungcheol seems to be trying very hard not to embrace Hyungwon — and it’s been a very long and hard few weeks. He closes the distance and lets Seungcheol envelop him. For what seems like the first time in a long time, Hyungwon exhales.

“Don’t try and lie to me,” Seungcheol warns, breath in the crook of his neck. “You better not be working any active cases. You’ll push yourself into an early grave.”

It was almost a beautiful moment — and then Minhyuk had to go ruin it. “ _Aww_ ,” he coos, his voice resounding across his cell. “This is just precious!”

Hyungwon disentangles himself from Seungcheol like he’s on fire.

“Forgot he was there for a moment,” Seungcheol mutters.

“Wish that was me,” Minhyuk replies.

Even with Minhyuk’s interruption, Hyungwon can’t deny how excited he is to see Seungcheol. He’s been unceremoniously banned from going to the office until his shoulder heals, and as a consequence, it’s been so long since he’s spoken to a friendly face.

Hyungwon presses his hand on Seungcheol’s elbow. “Can we talk outside for a moment?”

Seungcheol surveys Minhyuk. Flinches at the sight of his smile — Hyungwon never realized how desensitized to it he became.

“Of course.”

With Minhyuk hidden away in his cell, the atmosphere becomes considerably lighter.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” Seungcheol asks.

“Technically I should be at home recovering,” Hyungwon says, unable to lie to him. “But I’ve been stuck in my own bedroom for so long, it’s driving me crazy. I convinced the Commissioner to let me visit the prison at least, and he relented.”

“That’s quite gracious of him,” Seungcheol remarks. “When he was still a Special Class Investigator, I once asked him to borrow a pen and he screamed at me for ten minutes. But I suppose since it’s a new promotion, he’s trying to honour his predecessor’s memory by being more amicable.”

The meeting was hardly off to a good start. The Commissioner had graciously patted Hyungwon on the shoulder, and upon seeing the look of agony in Hyungwon’s expression, immediately began to apologize for his thoughtlessness. “You don’t look injured!” he had attempted to defend himself. “God, sorry Chae, this is all foriegn to me.”

Hyungwon shakes his head. “I think he felt sorry for me. Knew that I wanted some sort of closure to my… _trauma_ , as he put it. He gave me clearance to visit the Cochlea, and never said how _many_ times I could go. I’ve been here quite regularly, honestly.”

“Do you always visit #113?”

“I _only_ visit #113.”

There’s concern in Seungcheol’s face but he keeps his tone constant. “Have you found out anything?”

“No.” Again, to anyone else, Hyungwon would have bluffed, would have exaggerated and fabricated as necessary if just to make it seem less like he’s wasting time. But Seungcheol knows him, and he doesn’t _want_ to deceive him. “He talks to me non-stop. But he never gives me any actual answers.”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek. It’s a habit he picked up from Hyungwon. “Typical.”

“I’ll get him to talk, though. He just needs some more time in the eggshell white walls of the Cochlea and he’ll realize there’s no reason for him to be coy anymore.” Hyungwon’s resolve comes through in the tenor of his voice.

“I can tell you’ve been here regularly,” Seungcheol’s lips curve up in amusement. “I would not have been able to tell you the shade of the paint.”

A guard walks past them, and they both stop talking. They nod in greeting, and nothing more. Hyungwon doesn’t want to get too comfortable with the staff, just in case they tell the Commissioner how often he’s been visiting. When the guard disappears around the corner, Seungcheol releases a heavy sigh he must have been containing. 

“Hyungwon, I understand why you feel the need to interrogate him. Certainly, I can’t judge. I know I’d be the same if I had to endure what you did. I _saw_ what it was like. But at the same time, is this really healthy? Is this the way to recovery?”

“My shoulder is better!” Hyungwon protests.

The smile Seungcheol wears is like a slouchy sweater — it doesn’t fit right. “I’m not just talking about your physical injuries. I’m talking about the effect it’s had on your mental state. Ghouls can be sadistic for the enjoyment of it. There’s no further explanation for it. #113 could certainly be that type.”

“I agree with that.” Visions of blood and gore fill Hyungwon’s mind, and he suppresses his nausea. He sees it too often to still have a reaction. He needs to train himself out of it.

“Maybe that’s why he can’t give you a reason. He doesn’t have one. He just wanted to make you suffer because that’s the whims of a ghoul with unsuppressed power,” Seungcheol lays a hand on the back of Hyungwon’s neck. “Don’t let yourself become devoted to revenge. He’s already in prison. You’re alive. By every measure, this was a success.”

And that’s where Hyungwon disagrees. This discredits the _measure_ of what it’s like drinking the water that drips through the cracks in the brickwork, through hunting rats in the winding paths of the sewers, of the dried blood binding his filthy shirt to the wound that wouldn’t stop flowing. Just because Minhyuk is behind bars doesn’t mean that Hyungwon feels better. And he won’t, until he knows why.

“Your medical leave ends in a week, right?” Seungcheol asks. “When it does, swing by my desk. We can have coffee together and talk, instead of here.”

“That sounds nice,” Hyungwon breathes. “That sounds really nice.”

Seungcheol nods, and adjusts his jacket. “I really should get going. I came to speak to #113 about information on another ghoul, but he doesn’t like talking to me.”

The concept is strange. Hyungwon can’t get Minhyuk to shut up once he gets started. “Perhaps you should come with me next time. We can talk to him together. He’s a lot more… _receptive_ with me there.”

“Sounds as good idea as any. But only _after_ you’re back on duty. Get some rest, Hyungwon. In a few weeks you’ll regret not taking advantage of every moment of free time you had when you’re up to your eyeballs in ghoul guts,” Seungcheol advises. It’s never condescending when it’s him.

“I’ll go back to bed as soon as I’m done here. Promise.”

“What do you mean? Are you still going in to talk to him?”

Hyungwon squirms from side to side. “I came all this way. I may as well…”

There’s such obvious judgement and concern in Seungcheol’s face — but he merely nods. Respects Hyungwon enough to respect his decision. “Good luck. I’ll see you around next week.”

With one final handshake, Seungcheol walks off. A part of Hyungwon does wonder why he doesn’t just leave with Seungcheol. They could take the train back together. It’ll certainly be more enjoyable than an afternoon spent with Minhyuk. But he can’t shake off that residual guilt, the idea that Minhyuk already saw him, knows he’s here, he can’t not _greet_ him.

His mother raised a polite young man. She taught him the importance of treating everyone with dignity and respect, even those undeserving of it. The lesson, given to him so many years ago, still rings true in his head. A man is built up of the values he holds most dearly — and this is one of them.

Hyungwon swipes his keycard, and enters the cell for the second time. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget how bright Minhyuk looked in that moment, the smile that blossomed across his face.

“Well, hello there! Oh I didn’t think you’d come back!” Minhyuk sticks himself to the glass, his breath misting out in water vapour.

“I assure you it’s nothing sentimental,” Hyungwon replies. “I already paid for the train ticket. Might as well see if you’re in a more talkative mood.”

“I’m _always_ in the mood to talk to you, Hyungwon. You know, I’ve never seen you smile before. How do you know Investigator Choi? Are you his partner?”

“No,” Hyungwon replies. “It’s a new promotion. We were on the same rank till recently.”

“Aah, makes sense I suppose,” Minhyuk says. “But you seemed so overjoyed to see him! Are you colleagues?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Lovers, perhaps?”

Trust Minhyuk to always jump to the most dramatic assumption. Hyungwon doesn’t think he’s ever met someone quite as addicted to the thrill of gossip as him. He rolls his eyes.

“He’s my friend.”

“That’s so cute,” Minhyuk coos again. “Look at you, having _friends_. I wouldn’t have thought that of you. You’re so stern and buttoned up all the time. I wonder what it’s like to be your friend and go drinking with you. Shoot the breeze and all that.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“Mmm. Unsurprising. Forgive me, Investigator, but you don’t exactly strike me as a very sociable person. I’d dare say that what little friendships you have are almost certainly centered on work. Anything that isn’t your work probably falls by the wayside.”

With a delay far longer than it should be, Hyungwon realizes now that there was no reason for him to tell Minhyuk any of this. Really, he shouldn’t. But, as he tries to rationalize to himself right there and then, it’s not as if Minhyuk can _tell_ anyone. He’s isolated. It’s a little distressing that this creature who barely knows Hyungwon was able to analyze his personality with such accuracy. Hyungwon was not a person with many friends, and this was before he joined the CCG either. He struggles to connect to people on a level of intimacy, not without any sort of buffer between them. Seungcheol is a rare exception, and even Hyungwon must admit to himself, this newfound companionship was all the result after a week in the sewers, Seungcheol was the first friendly face he saw when he rescued him.

It is for this reason that a pit grows in Hyungwon’s stomach. He _enjoys_ talking to Minhyuk. A little. Kind of. In a very specific way.

“Seungcheol tells me that you weren’t cooperating with his questioning.”

“Ooh, were you gossiping about me?” Minhyuk says, fluttering his eyelashes. “I love being a hot topic. That was the best part of my quote-unquote ‘feeding frenzies’. All over the papers would be headlines about the Binge-Eater. That was so exciting. I used to cut them out and paper my wall with them.”

Hyungwon puts aside the disturbing nature of that revelation for a moment. “Your wall? You had a _house_?”

“Do I look like I lived in a dumpster?” Minhyuk asks.

And Hyungwon does something he often tries not to do. He _looks_ at Minhyuk. At his carefully smoothed out golden hair, at his carefully trimmed cuticles, and how even in his prison uniform, it’s pristinely ironed. The same was true for before his imprisonment. There is no rarer sight than a ghoul without blood under their fingernails — but Minhyuk would never be caught with such filth.

“I never really thought about it,” Hyungwon purses his lips. “I assumed you moved around a lot.”

“I still had a home. Everyone does.” Nostalgia creeps into his voice. “I miss it sometimes, truthfully. It was hardly that fancy, it would attract too much attention otherwise, but it had little things I used to collect over the years. I never gave Kihyun that book I borrowed. I can imagine his expression. He’s probably cursing my name right now, swearing he’ll never help me again, and yet I know if I ever called his name, the next second he’d come running.”

 _Kihyun_. Hyungwon makes a mental note of the name. There are several ghouls associated with Minhyuk, some with no known aliases at all. He can use this.

“What’s the address?” Hyungwon demands.

“Oh, it was somewhere in the 12th Ward, it was a really nice place, next to the park—” Minhyuk breaks off, disappointment obvious in his gaze. “Oh. You’re asking because you want to storm the place, don’t you?”

“You might as well tell me where it is. You’ve given me enough information to find it anyway. This will only speed up the process.”

Minhyuk steps away from the glass and shrugs. “There’s no point. It’s already burnt to the ground, I’m certain.” He tells him the address anyway, and Hyungwon writes it down immediately. His mind races with the possibilities. A book owned by another ghoul ‘Kihyun’, certainly A-rated or higher. If they’re able to trace his whereabouts, it would be invaluable. That’s not even considering the material possession, all the other trinkets someone as magpie-like as Minhyuk must have accumulated over the years. It’s ripe with opportunity — and Hyungwon’s been desperate to prove himself. 

“What a distorted perception of ghouls you must have,” Minhyuk says, almost sadly, “To think that we are so far removed from humanity that we do not even want something as simple as a place to rest our head.”

His words are harsh, disrupting the thoughts in Hyungwon’s mind. He can’t be bothered about this now, he has a purpose, he needs to get there as soon as possible. This is his chance at redemption of sorts. If he’s one of the few investigators left alive in his Ward, he’s determined to prove he’s worthy of the cruel twist of fate that spared him so.

“I can understand now how the Doves can be so vicious. You don’t even think of us as sentient.”

 _Doves_. The nickname that ghouls use for the investigators. It’s strange to see it coming out of the mouth of one. Minhyuk never uses the term, not with Hyungwon. It’s always his name, sometimes his rank when he’s feeling cheeky. It’s so much more personal like this. He’s not got the time nor energy to expend concerned about the feelings of a sadist like Minhyuk, however.

His promise to Seungcheol already forgotten, he boards a train to the 12th Ward. Forces himself not to think of the disappointment on Minhyuk’s face.

### VISIT: #113 — First Rank Junior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 9

“It’s almost the New Year, isn’t it?” Minhyuk muses aloud.

“Already passed a week ago.” Hyungwon hesitates before adding. “Happy New Year.”

The grin in reply is wide. “Thank you, Investigator. A Happy New Year too. I must wonder why you never thought to mention this to me when we spoke last week. Why did you even show up? Surely you had other commitments to go to?”

He didn’t. Dongwoon hosted his annual New Year’s Eve party at his house, and Hyungwon was planning to make his appearances — but it only started the evening. There was no reason why he _couldn’t_ go for his weekly visit to Minhyuk. Well, technically there was: he could have been at headquarters. With his shoulder patched up and his workload restored, Hyungwon finds himself with sleepless nights more often than not. It’s not the CCG’s fault, not at all. They were kind enough to promote his rank, even after his medical leave. But no, the problem remains that there is a large vacancy in the workforce of the 20th Ward. After the massacre so few remain, and even with reinforcements sent from higher up, there just simply isn’t enough manpower.

Despite this, Hyungwon keeps going back to the Cochlea. Interrogation continues to be at the forefront of his mind. While he is still unable to wrangle any concrete answers from Minhyuk’s honey-voiced rambling, but he’s far more receptive when talking about the other ghouls. Even when speaking of those long dead, Hyungwon is able to fill in gaps in the records and has been steadily building the CCG’s archives. It’s strange to owe such an important step in CCG progress to _Minhyuk_ of all people, but he’ll hardly give all the credit to him. Hyungwon is the one who has to sit down on the opposite side of glass and talk to him, deflecting his tangents and relenting in answering the more mundane of personal question directed at him.

“I’m sure you’d have felt very offended by my absence,” Hyungwon replies.

“You’re right, I would have sulked for _ages_ ,” Minhyuk agrees. “Do you have any New Year’s Resolutions?”

“Just the one. I would hope to find out why you imprisoned me.”

“Allow me to fulfill that for you right now then,” Minhyuk says, voice cracking with mirth. “It’s because I like you.”

“That’s not an answer, Minhyuk.” He’s very glad he’s had the Cochlea staff move a desk and chair into the room. He still brings his quinque in, but he leaves the suitcase next to his side. Doesn’t touch it until he leaves.

The thing about Minhyuk’s eyes is that they seem to contain unfathomable depths within them. Must be as a result of his experience, perhaps the gravity of the things he’s done. If Hyungwon stares into them for too long, he starts to feel like he’s sinking. “Of course it is. It’s not my fault it’s not the one you want to hear.”

He’s not in the mood to argue today. “Can we continue talking about the Gourmet? You left off last week in the middle of his resurgence in the 16th Ward.”

Minhyuk crosses his legs and sits in the center of his cell, faces Hyungwon. “Good memory. Well, the thing about Jihoon is that he’s so _picky_ but he’s also very dominating, just has this aura surrounding him. I was once at his dinner party—” 

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 14

“Something’s different,” Minhyuk deduces. He licks the tip of his index finger, starts to waggle it in thought. “Did you get a haircut?”

“No.”

“Hmm. What about a new tie?”

“I wore this last week. Offended you didn’t notice it until now.”

“Well, sorry, we were distracted wrapping up about the underground ghouls in the 17th Ward.” Minhyuk continues this quiz. “Okay, maybe it’s not physical. Have you had sex recently?”

Against his will, Hyungwon’s cheeks heat up. “That’s… that’s none of your business.”

Minhyuk’s jaw drops, his hands pressed to the glass. “You _did_? Tell me everything. You’re like a mannequin, I didn’t think you had such carnal urges at all.”

“I am a well-functioning human male, thank you very much,” Hyungwon crosses his arms. “And it’s nothing to do with _that_ either. I just… I got a promotion.”

Minhyuk blinks. “Wait, really?”

Pride cannot be contained. He worked so hard for this. Sacrificed so much. He can barely remember the last time he had a full night’s worth of sleep. But it was all worth it. He’s furthering his career, he’s making a difference. “Yes. I’m a Senior Investigator now. A proper one.”

For many, this is the peak of their career. It will not be Hyungwon’s. This is a stepping stone onto higher and higher positions — but he will allow himself to rest his feet for a moment. If only this brief moment of respite didn’t come with the consequence of every single one of Hyungwon’s doubts begin to creep into his mind.

Why does Minhyuk’s happiness look sincere? “I’m so proud of you, Hyungwon. Look at you. You’re gonna make waves, I’m certain,” Minhyuk claps his hands together. “Come on, look prouder of yourself! You’ve earned it.”

Having such few friends, Hyungwon never really _celebrated_ his promotion. It’s strange that he feels the most support from his weekly prison visit than anyone else. “It was difficult, I won’t deny. And I’ve put in the effort and the overtime and the sweat but…”

“But?” Minhyuk prompts.

“I don’t know. I have this recurring doubt.”

His eyes are so thoughtful sometimes, like he understands what Hyungwon feels better than he himself can enunciate. “Tell me what it is.”

“I don’t think it really matters,” Hyungwon says quickly, “Besides we have other things to discuss, I believe you were telling me about an S-ranked ghoul active in—”

“And that ghoul will still be active in the minute it takes you to tell me why you aren’t as excited as you should be,” Minhyuk interjects. “What’s the risk? Who do you think I’m going to tell? The mote of dust in the corner of my ceiling? The glass of my cell?”

Hyungwon purses his lips. “I’m excited but also… but I don’t think I deserve the promotion. Not yet, anyway. I’m so young. Most investigators take years and years before they get here.”

Minhyuk gives a dismissive wave. “It’s the CCG. I don’t think they give out pity promotions.”

“I don’t necessarily think it’s that, but, as you probably know, there was that massacre a few months ago that wiped out our entire ward’s staff.” Hyungwon’s voice softens. “I think they’re just trying to fill in those vacancies, even if we haven’t earned it yet.”

He furrows his brow in concentration. “It’s so hard keeping my sense of time. What happened exactly?”

Guilt settles uncomfortably in Hyungwon’s gut. Mentioning the incident feels wrong, it still feels too raw — but he started this conversation and he has an obligation to finish it. “I’m sure you know the two SS-rated ghouls, Ram’s Head and the Final One, they stormed the place. They were after Special Class Investigator Hui and they just destroyed everyone else in their path. It was a bloodbath I’m told.”

“Oh,” Minhyuk says passively. “I remember.”

Uncomfortable memories swirl in his gut of voices he’ll never hear again and smiles he’ll never see again. 

“And the only reason I wasn’t there was because _you_ had imprisoned me at the time,” Hyungwon says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I could have done something, you know? If I’d have been there. I could have helped.”

“Or your blood could have splattered across the walls like the rest of them,” Minhyuk states. Sobriety doesn’t sit right on his face. “Perhaps you should thank me for my strange little whims.”

He thought he was over it. He thought he accepted that he was never going to get an answer but _no_. It still sticks in his mind, this lack of closure and understanding. “Was that all it was? You just saw me and decided to lock me in the sewer system because you were bored? Didn’t have anything better? The only reason I am alive today is because I just got _lucky_.”

“Guess so. For someone still breathing, you really do complain a lot about that,” Minhyuk replies. “Besides, does that really matter anymore? Whether or not you’re happy about the promotion, you’ve got it anyway. Might as well prove yourself. If anyone can do something right about the state of the city, it’s probably you.”

“And if I can’t?” Hyungwon says. He’s just one man. He’s nothing special, nothing extraordinary. Hard work can only take you so far. There were so many more qualified investigators who died during that attack who deserve to be here instead of him. He can and will try certainly, but he’ll always be lacking.

“Doesn’t really bother me,” Minhyuk shrugs. “I’ve been around a long time. This won’t be the first city I see fall. It won’t be the last either.”

“You say this like you assume you’d survive,” Hyungwon feels the need to point out.

Minhyuk tilts his head to the side. “I do. I always do. But this isn’t about me, is it? You’ve just received good news. We should focus on that. Congratulations on your promotion, Senior Investigator. Well deserved.” 

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 17

Hyungwon’s grip on his briefcase is tighter than it’s been for a while. He had spent most of the night in a state of perpetual anxiety deliberating over his actions as soon as the day breaks. It’s easy to chastise cowardness when faced with a creature in front of you ready to rip you into shreds, it’s what the CCG Academy taught. It’s harder when there’s no risk of any harm at all, at least — not physical. But as he’s tossed the thought around in his mind for hours upon hours, he knows that this is the right thing to do. And he’s come this far.

“Hello Hyungwon. Your hair looks so nice today, your new conditioner must be working wonders,” Minhyuk remarks when Hyungwon enters the cell.

He nods in reply, sits at the desk. Unable to stop himself staring at Minhyuk, he feels his throat begin to dry out.

“What were we talking about last week? I can’t really remember,” Minhyuk doesn’t seem to notice anything. “Was it about the different kinds of kagune or something? Oh, yes it was, wasn’t it? Well, you see every ghoul has a distinctive kind, think of it like a defensive and predatory organ. It’s very useful in identification as you can imagine. For example, I knew this one ghoul, she’s long dead but she used—”

“Minhyuk, I need to tell you something.” Hyungwon lets the words fall out of his mouth. He can’t take them back now. Good. He needs to do this.

Minhyuk cocks his head to the side in confusion. “Oh? Is something wrong?”

“A member of my taskforce recently took down a ghoul,” Hyungwon says. His tongue feels like sandpaper.

“Congratulations,” Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “Thanks for keeping me updated. Heaven forbid we don’t throw a parade every time the CCG takes a step forward.”

“That’s not it.”

Few weeks back, there was an attack. The only survivor was a child. A girl, no older than fifteen. A teenager, technically, but what maturity she believed she had seemed to vanish in the way her body shook as she sat in the corner, a blanket wrapped around her, eyes vacant and hollow. Hyungwon, the least-injured and the most physically presentable at that moment was next to her. He didn’t want to be. He would have preferred to be the next continent if it meant he didn’t have to sit beside this crying, broken girl and having to confirm her worst fears. Hyungwon kept his voice soothing, set it in a gentle tone, and tried to explain that the investigators and medics did everything they could, but it was too late for her parents. He felt a void inside of him, wished he could absorb every fraction of pain from her, even if it meant he had to feel it himself.

Hyungwon feels the same now.

“You once told me that the worst thing about living the way that ghouls do was that you could never know what happened to your friends.”

It feels worse now.

“I did.” The lack of Minhyuk’s usual humour is noticeable. Dread is written in his face. “What’s going on?”

Words would not suffice. Hyungwon stands back, and unclips the briefcase. The quinque unleashes itself, glowing steel blue and pulsating, the shape of a cylindrical hammer. There was a part of him that hoped he was mistaken when he read the report that came out — but he isn’t. Not when he sees recognition in Minhyuk’s expression — followed immediately by a sadness so vast and deep, Hyungwon thinks he might fall into it.

“That’s Kihyun’s, isn’t it,” Minhyuk’s voice trembles. “I’d recognize his kagune anywhere. That’s Kihyun’s, why do you have Kihyun’s…”

Hyungwon swallows. “There was a—”

At such close range, Hyungwon can see the moment that the rage overtakes Minhyuk, the way his eyes flash from white to black, his pupils an undulating red. “Did you fucking kill Kihyun? Did you kill him? Brutalized his body, tore him apart and then wrenched out his kagune? To come show me now, like some cat dragging a dead bird in its mouth?”

“No, Minhyuk, that’s not it at all—”

“Do you think this is some kind of game? Do you have any idea what he meant to me?”

#113 has been seen in battle many times before. Investigators, those that survive, all report similar details. #113 is fast. #113 is agile. #113 laughs a lot, never seems to sweat, always has a smile on his face. Hyungwon agreed with all of that with regards to #113. He sees none of this now. Minhyuk’s a different person.

There’s a crackle in the air, and his kagune unleashes itself from his spine. Hyungwon steps back reflexively. His body remembers what it was like to have that tendril splinter through his shoulder. Unlike then, however, he’s in no danger here, not at all, but the sight alone is enough to cause his blood to pound in his ears.

“Minhyuk, you need to calm down.”

His teeth are bared to the gums. “How can you stand there and tell me that when you’re the one gloating that you’ve killed my best friend? Do you think that I’m that sadistic enough that I would be glad? Or did you want me to hurt? Did you think this was the easiest option?” His kagune reach higher and higher, daring to breach the distance between them.

Hyungwon clears his throat. Adopts the tone of authority he knows he always has the capability to wield. “Minhyuk, you need to stop while you can. I understand why you’re upset, but you can’t break through this glass.”

“ _Wanna fucking bet_?”

A shiver runs through Hyungwon’s spine. He was wrong to think Minhyuk was merciless all this time. _This_ is what that looks like. “Minhyuk, you can’t. You physically _can’t_. And the second your kagune touches the glass, I have to report it to the wardens and they will react. I don’t know what they’ll do, but best case scenario is they incapacitate you. They might even just kill you.” It’s not fearmongering even if it sounds like it. Hyungwon doesn’t _want_ Minhyuk to suffer for the mere result of having an emotional response to a devastating condition. No one would be immune to such a thing.

Minhyuk shows no signs of tamping down his rage — but he does pause. Enough to consider Hyungwon’s words. His kagune bathe his cell in a shadowed scarlet light. The angles of his face are even sharper than usual.

“You’ve made it so far without any incidents. Don’t ruin it now,” Hyungwon says softly. “Let me explain.”

His kagune twitches, as if in discontentment. “Speak.”

“It wasn’t me,” Hyungwon says. “It was another investigator and her partner. I only found out the next day at the morning briefing. After speaking to them I realized who this ghoul was. It’s your friend, isn’t it?” He hesitates before sounding out the name. “Ki-hyun.”

Minhyuk’s gaze drifts to the quinque — and then he wrenches his eyes shut. “That’s him. No doubt in my mind.”

“I’m sorry that this happened to your friend. But I remembered what you told me, that you would always prefer to know what happened to them rather than living in blissful ignorance. Was I right in this?” Hyungwon says.

Minhyuk’s hands clenches into fists. “You had nothing to do with this?”

“No.”

“Then why apologize?”

“Because I’m sorry that this caused you so much pain.” With that, Hyungwon shuts the briefcase. It’s unfair, really. Special Class Investigator Minji had been so proud of the quinque they’d constructed from Kihyun, and it was so powerful as well — it’s just unfortunate that it’s at this consequence. “I’ll go now.”

Perhaps if he leaves, Minhyuk will be able to calm down and dissolve his kagune in before any guards discover.

“Wait,” Minhyuk says through gritted teeth. “Just… wait.”

Obidentely, Hyungwon stops. It takes several moments before Minhyuk composes himself enough to speak.

“Hyungwon. Can you… can you do me a favour? Please?”

“Minhyuk…” Hyungwon warns. “I’m not really in a position to do something—”

“Please. I’ve never asked you for anything.”

 _And I don’t owe you anything either_ , Hyungwon almost wants to reply. But he stops. And waits. “What is it?”

His eyes, black and murderous, glisten with tears. “Destroy the quinque. Please. I know you probably can’t, but please, if you can. I just…” Minhyuk’s hand drifts on the glass. “You can’t use him like that. Please.”

Hyungwon’s heart feels like it’s being suffocated. “I don’t think I can do that, Minhyuk. I wish I could but I… I really can’t. You understand, right?”

He doesn’t answer but perhaps he doesn’t need to. His kagune disintegrates, and he slumps to the floor. Defeated.

“I never gave him back his book. He was always so pissed at me all the time, but he’d always show up when I needed him to. And he knew how unreliable I was but even so, he’d still…” Minhyuk trails off, “He’d still lend me his favourite book.”

Hyungwon is watching a ghoul cry.

“I don’t remember the last time I spoke to him. It was before prison, obviously, but it had already been a while. Maybe after you and I met the second time.” He can’t stop now that he’s started, words gushing out of his lips. “Oh, that’s right, yes it was then. It’s coming back to me now, because I remember cursing your name for cutting off my hand. And he agreed with me. Kihyun was always a very good person to be near when you’re angry.”

There’s little Hyungwon can say to make him feel better. So he just lets him talk.

“Can’t believe I never spoke to him after that,” Minhyuk murmurs. His fingers trace a shape in the tiled floor. “I feel like I had so much left to tell him.”

“How long did you know each other?”

“Honestly? No idea.” Minhyuk holds out his hand, starts counting — gives up halfway. “Decades, probably. The world was a different place when I saw him the first time. I spent the whole night annoying him and he threatened to stake me through the chest at least twice, but I decided we’d be friends forever.”

Hyungwon tries to disguise his surprise. “I thought you never settled down much.”

“Some people make you want to, though.”

It’s a different kind of quiet than Hyungwon is used to. It’s like there’s a thousand unsaid sentences in the air, all heard but not able to be understood. It helps to be present, though, he feels that much. Thinks it would be unbearable to be in this atmosphere alone.

“He was strong as well. Brutal, even.”

Special Class Investigator Mingi has the scars to prove that.

“I didn’t think he could ever… die. I’ll miss him, Hyungwon. I really will.” Minhyuk pauses. “I miss all my friends. Miss those I hated too. You know you’re the only person who ever talks to me here?” And then he shakes his head. “And isn’t that the strangest of all, when you’re the one who has reason to hate me the most.”

“I do,” Hyungwon says. Feels like he has to say it to remind himself. No matter the tears that run down his face now, Minhyuk is not to be trusted.

“Yeah. Good. Kihyun used to say that to me too,” Minhyuk says. He sighs deeply. “I think you should go.”

“Okay. I will.” He nods. “Do you wish I didn’t tell you?”

“No. I wish it didn’t happen.”

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 18

“It’s not exactly _policy_ to ask a prisoner if they want a visitor,” Miyeon points out. Her hair is tied into an austere ponytail and even in the early hours of the morning, she already seems tired. Hyungwon wonders if she was assigned to the nightshift. He hopes someone made her coffee. “You should know by now, we just write down the details in the visitor’s log, you sign, and you walk right in.”

“I’m familiar. I’ve been here before but this is a special case.”

“How is it special? You’ve visited #113, what, like twenty times?” Miyeon glances at the register. “Close enough. I’m pretty sure he expects you there by now. And it’s not like a prisoner even has a choice to refuse. That’s not what we do here.”

She makes valid points, of course she does, but Hyungwon feels too uncomfortable with the idea of storming into Minhyuk’s cell. He wants to know if his visit would be appreciated — or if it would just rub more salt in the wound.

“Please?”

With manicured nails, Miyeon dials on the phone. Her lips tighten to a thin line. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone visit a prisoner as much as you do,” she says, her hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s something else, really.”

Spared from answering by the phone crackling to life, she seems to be consulting one of the guards. There’s a vase of flowers on the desk, white ones, like they belong at a funeral. 

“Go through,” Miyeon gestures ahead. “I don’t know if you expected anything different, but thanks for brightening my morning with your presence I guess.”

When he first arrived, Hyungwon was accompanied by a guard to Minhyuk’s cell. A prisoner’s cell is confidential information, after all. He’s on one of the lower levels, along with all the other high-security ghouls. Hyungwon doesn’t need a guide anymore, already memorized the path. He knocks this time before he swipes his keycard.

Minhyuk lies on his bed, and doesn’t even look up when he hears Hyungwon enter. “You never call before.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to see me,” Hyungwon replies with more honesty than he may have planned. He doesn’t sit down. Doesn’t think he’ll be here too long.

Minhyuk sits up now, looks at Hyungwon. To the untrained eye he seems back to normal, as happy-go-lucky as he always is. But Hyungwon has become intimately familiar with the intricacies of Minhyuk’s face and can see that the sorrow in his heart bleeds out into the corners of his eyes, the vacancy in his smile. “I don’t think I have much of a choice either way, but it’s a nice gesture, certainly.” He pauses. “Besides, do you really think I have enough visitors to start turning them away?”

Reconciling his own uselessness has been difficult. He’d run over all options in his mind back and forth. He couldn’t bring Kihyun back from the dead, and he couldn’t honour Minhyuk’s wish either. Quinques had a manufacturing process that was expensive, time-consuming — above all, represented a scarce resource. He’d never be able to explain it to any of his superior officers as to why he destroyed a perfectly capable weapon. All Hyungwon can do is just stay here. Do what he can. Keep Minhyuk company.

“I’m sorry,” Hyungwon says hopelessly. 

“You don’t need to apologize, Hyungwon. I believe you when you said it had nothing to do with you.”

It’s not about belief. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m sorry.”

“I can’t blame you for what someone else did, can I?” Minhyuk says. “I’d be no better than the Doves then.” 

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Choi Seungcheol — Occurrence 21

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 22

“I don’t know how fruitful this will be, Hyungwon,” Seungcheol keeps his voice as low as possible so no one else on the train can overhear them. “When I spoke to him all those months ago, he was entirely unreceptive.”

“He’s been very helpful when I’ve asked him questions,” Hyungwon replies. “I’ve been updating the CCG databases continuously.”

Seungcheol seems suitably impressed. “I’d heard someone was doing that. I didn’t realize it was you. That’s great to hear, Hyungwon. I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner, but I’ve had my hands full lately. I dealt with the most horrific incident yesterday. This ghoul just went on a rampage at a university dorm.”

Hyungwon shakes his head. “Any survivors?”

“Just one. A new student, all fresh-faced and bright-eyed, ready for the world. He looked horrified. His roommate was literally splattered across the walls.” Seungcheol recoils. “Sorry for bringing it up, it’s sickening to think about. I hope he’s okay. He seemed so distraught, wanted to know what he could do to help.”

“What did you tell him?” Therapy is what Hyungwon personally would have recommended, but it would be insincere coming from him. He was recommended to have sessions years ago and never went.

Seungcheol steeples his fingers, gazing out the opposite window as the train rushes by another station. “Told him to join the CCG. If you want to make a difference, there’s no better place to be. God knows we need the manpower.”

Empty chairs. That’s the only constant in their office nowadays. It was once so busy, there used to be a schedule for the coffeemaker. Now a single pot lasts the entire day. Slowly, the ranks are building up again, but it’ll take time. And the thing about empty chairs is that even when they’re filled, it’s still not with who was supposed to be there — and it always feels just a little wrong.

“Recruit numbers are increasing,” Hyungwon says softly.

“I try not to think about it too much. It doesn’t always work. And to think, we’re actually going to talk to #113 about those two… it’s just bringing all those memories up again.”

“I could do this alone if you want?” Hyungwon says, and almost wishes that Seungcheol will acquiesce. He doesn’t know how Minhyuk will act. Fears he’ll say _something_. Not that Hyungwon has acted unprofessionally at all towards him, but… well, it’ll just be better if he behaves.

“Don’t be silly. I’m here to help, Hyungwon. I worry you carry the world on your shoulders too often.”

Seungcheol’s words resonate through Hyungwon as they pass the Cochlea security checks. He signs his name in the visitor’s log without thinking about it, leads Seungcheol straight to Minhyuk’s cell. When he knocks, Seungcheol raises an eyebrow.

“It’s polite,” Hyungwon says as an attempt at an explanation.

Minhyuk seems to be doing _yoga_ of all things, and still in the tree pose, cracks open a single eye. “Oh, you’ve brought your friend again! Hello there, how are you?”

Seungcheol blinks. “I’m… well. And yourself?”

“Halfway through a sun salutation, but I guess I can stop since I have visitors,” Minhyuk replies. Exhaling, he lowers his leg to the ground and stretches himself out. “To what do I owe such a fun gathering? Are we having a party?”

“We were hoping you could give us information on two ghouls,” Hyungwon says. Miyeon had taken the liberty of bringing an extra chair in the room, and he and Seungcheol sit side by side while Minhyuk finishes up his routine.

“It’s always about the ghouls with you people!” Minhyuk exhales in a theatrical sigh. “You never ask for my opinion on movies. And I have a lot of them, you know, some excessively controversial. You aren’t even _ready_ for my idol gossip.”

“The ghouls in question are #417 and #327, the Ram’s Head and Final One,” Seungcheol says, not even sparing a second of regard to Minhyuk’s babbling. “They commonly go by the aliases Hongseok and Yeo One respectively, but we have observed the latter being called Changgu, most usually by—”

The frown is pronounced on Minhyuk’s face. “You’ve asked me this before.”

“I have, but you weren’t very—”

“And you think I would have changed my mind, apparently?”

Hyungwon, seeing the beginnings of a definite fallout, steps in. “We were hoping you could tell us anything of value. Those two have caused great physical and emotional damage to all of us in this Ward, and even the barest scrap of information could help us in understanding their motives, and hopefully, locating them.”

It really is incredible that Minhyuk seems far more receptive to the idea when it came from Hyungwon. He tries not to feel flattered.

“It’ll really be in your best interests to forget about them. Seriously. And I don’t just mean you two, I mean the _entire_ CCG. You don’t want to get into a fight with them. They’re sore losers and even worse winners. They are…” Minhyuk flinches. “They’re not my friends. Not even close.”

“We’re not scared of them,” Seungcheol states.

“You should be,” Minhyuk says. “I am.”

Shock shoots through Hyungwon’s veins. In all of Minhyuk’s stories, he had never seemed ever remotely afraid of anything. He didn’t think it was possible. Minhyuk was so powerful, even among ghouls — it would be rare to even consider anyone who could harm him in anyway.

“What can you tell us?” Hyungwon asks, his voice soft. “Anything would make a difference.”

Minhyuk exhales heavily. “Fine. Okay, answer me this. Join me on a thought experiment. Why do you hate me? Why am I here? Genuinely, what is the reason for me being in the big fancy top-secret ghoul prison?”

Unsure of how to respond, Hyungwon is glad when Seungcheol takes the initiative to reply. “You’ve killed numerous innocent people. You’re a Binge-Eater.”

“Bingo,” Minhyuk flashes Seungcheol an okay sign. “I eat. I have to eat. I’m always hungry. Do you know what that’s like? It’s a physiological need. And yes, I’m a messy binge-eater on top of that, but that’s not the point. The point is I kill because I need to. Hongseok and Changgu? They just have fun with it.”

Next to him, Seungcheol stiffens.

“They enjoy killing.” Minhyuk doesn’t excuse his bluntness. “It’s fun for them. You know how some married couples struggle to spice things up years and years into their union? Think of it like that with Hongseok and Changgu, and they found the exciting heightened consequences of slaughtering for the thrill of it all. Anyone who’s vaguely associated with them and comes out alive is nothing short of a miracle. Clearly you’ve got someone watching over you if such does happen.”

Hyungwon exhales. “Do you know where they could be?”

“Not a clue. All I hope is not anywhere near here. You could maybe take on one of them if you had, oh,” Minhyuk begins to list of his fingers, “The manpower, the quinques, the experience, the necessary suicide pacts as a contingency — but both of them? No chance.”

The atmosphere is tense in the room, almost hanging like a physical object. When Seungcheol finally speaks again, his words are staggered, like he’s trying to fight his own revulsion. “What then? Is there nothing we can do?”

“Stay out of their way. Keep a low profile. If you annoy them, the best thing to do is hide for a couple of years till they forget,” Minhyuk shrugs. “At least that’s one advantage. They don’t usually hold grudges for _too_ long.”

“You’ve met them before?” Hyungwon asks.

Here, Minhyuk winces. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s hard not to run into them eventually, the trick is to keep running. I don’t have much more to tell you, unfortunately, I keep my distance. I know what they’re like. And you two do as well, don’t you? That’s why your entire department was massacred, isn’t it?”

Hyungwon doesn’t think there’s much left to say.

“One more question. What do you know about #717?” Seungcheol asks, almost as a whisper, almost like he doesn’t want Hyungwon to hear.

“Oh,” Minhyuk says, smiling, “Not as much as you, certainly.”

When they step outside, Seungcheol presses his hand against the wall and breathes heavily. “I gotta say, I kind of expected something more from #113.”

“What did you expect, exactly?” Truthfully, it wasn’t what Hyungwon would have liked to hear either, but it’s rather gratifying to see Minhyuk at his raw honesty. Fear was an unfamiliar emotion on his face.

“It sounds silly now that I say it out loud, but I thought he’d give us the key to taking them down. I didn’t think he’d tell us that he’s _scared_. I didn’t think someone like him could be scared. We’ve seen the destruction he causes.”

Because he’s hungry, Hyungwon thinks to himself. That’s why. Minhyuk doesn’t excuse his actions, but his reason for it is that physiological driver of hunger. Nothing more than that. It seems startlingly simple stated like that.

“Are you going to move further with your investigation against them?” Hyungwon asks.

“It’s a deadend. Why else would I come here and talk to him?” Seungcheol gestures to the door. “I’ll keep the case open, but that’s been what’s happened for the past few years. Will have to wait.”

Seungcheol must feel the loss of his old partner particularly strong at times like these. Hyungwon raises a hand, rests it on Seungcheol’s shoulder. He nods, lets himself smile.

“Well, at least we don’t have to come back here anymore.”

“Yeah,” Hyungwon says, and knows he’ll be here next week at the same time.

### VISIT: #113 — First Class Senior Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 27

“You look even more tired than usual,” Minhyuk remarks with all the gentleness of granite. “Please tell me you at least take regular showers.”

“It’s not like you can smell me if I don’t.”

“If that was supposed to inspire confidence, you’re failing miserably.” Minhyuk is perched on his sink of all things, posture as graceful as a bird. “What’s got you up all hours of the night? Been very busy with your single or multiple partners?”

“No, Minhyuk, that’s not it at all,” Hyungwon sighs.

He remembers the last time he went on a date. She worked in the building next to CCG and they used to go to the same cafe for lunch. She was fine, really. Sweet and pretty and blonde — Hyungwon always had a thing for blondes — but alone in a concentrated conversation with her, Hyungwon felt himself fluster. She asked about his interests, and he said work, she asked about his work, and he spoke about work and when she asked about his ideal future, all he ever mentioned was work.

Hyungwon doesn’t think he can really have a relationship besides the one he already has with his job. He just doesn’t know how to separate his life from work, when work is his life.

“Tragic for you. So, why then? What’s got you so exhausted?”

With stumbled steps, Hyungwon sinks into the chair in the cell, lets himself screw his eyes shut for a moment. He can't recall the last time he managed to get a decent amount of hours. “Why do you think? I’ve been busy with work. It never ends.”

Minhyuk blinks. “Don’t you have breaks? I’ve never held a real job a day of my life — besides that time I tried to fly a plane but that was almost a disaster — but I’m certain there’s laws against overworking yourself to death.”

“Those apply to normal people. I’m an investigator.”

Schooling his expression into one of fake admiration, Minhyuk gasps. “Oh! Brave investigator! Wonderful investigator! Refusing to sleep! Can’t wait till he saves the village from the next marauding ghoul by napping at the battlegrounds!”

“Minhyuk, come off it,” Hyungwon groans, finally opening his eyes. “The Commissioner has been dropping hints about promoting his next squad of Special Class Investigators. I need to work hard.”

“And you clearly are!” The mocking tone has disappeared from Minhyuk’s voice. “I’m surprised you made it here at all.”

Exhaustion has made Hyungwon amicable — and considerably less guarded. It’s the only excuse he can give as to why he just casually mentions, “I have this timeslot booked out for every week.”

Minhyuk tries to play off his surprise. “Oh?”

“I mean…” Hyungwon sits up straighter. “It’s just. I already reserved the time. It’s not taking any from my work day. So I can be here. And uh, this, counts as work. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Minhyuk nods. His eyebrows are still raised.

It feels awkward after that. Hyungwon doesn’t know why he said that. He’s fully aware that he could be working right now — or even better, he could be _sleeping_. Yet, it wasn’t even an option when he considered it. Of course he’d be here. He always left his meetings with Minhyuk in a better mood than he started. Usually, anyway. Sometimes his footsteps would thunder down the Cochlea floors, but that would also be a welcome change, rage instead of the ennui that usually plagues his existence.

“I should offer you some advice,” Minhyuk says gravely. “I think it’s time.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar with your area of expertise. If it’s about your preference of internal organs, I will pass.”

Hopping off the sink, Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “You’re in a snarky mood today. Lucky for you, in my incredibly gracious mercy, I’m willing to overlook that because you clearly need help. Take out your notepad, you need to write this down.”

Doubtful, Hyungwon does as he’s told. Besides, he always notes whatever Minhyuk says, it’s not like this is any different. Uncaps his pen ready to write down what Minhyuk dictates — which appears to be an address in the Ward over.

“Is this an area of ghoul activity?” Hyungwon’s excitement is obscured by a particularly large yawn.

“No,” Minhyuk answers. “It’s a coffeeshop.” 

Hyungwon tries not to visibly frown. “Is it owned by ghouls?”

“No. Just Korean lesbians. Try not to be visibly disappointed when you show up.”

He stares down at the address written in his own handwriting. He’s never been to that part of town before, but he’ll research it on the way. “Why do you want me to go there?”

Minhyuk clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Terrible,” he tuts. “Has the grumpy nerd never heard of the concept of a coffeeshop? Just go in. Order something. Take a _break_.”

“That’s it? That’s why you want me to visit this place?”

“Why else?” Minhyuk asks. “They make my favourite Americano in the world. The owners are such wonderful ladies as well, you’ll feel right at home instantly. Tell them I sent you!”

“I don’t really know if I can justify going out of my way just to have a drink.”

He has this irrational fear that the Commissioner will walk past the window and see him sipping out of a mason jar and fire him on the spot. Hyungwon thinks that his exhaustion has made him the tiniest bit anxious.

“Then go now,” he says simply. “You’ve booked out this time for me. Just go there instead. You need to get out. There’s more to life than that building, you know?”

When Sunggyu worked at headquarters, he described himself as a coffee connoisseur. Brought blends from Kenya one week and Ethiopia the next. Always ensured that there’d be a pot brewing in the breakroom, invited everyone to sample a particular blend and asked for feedback. If the sun was shining favourably, he’d bring along biscotti as well. But now that’s Sunggyu’s gone, there’s no one filling the jar with coffee grounds, no one to offer ‘fun facts’ about the refining process. What Hyungwon ends up drinking most days is bitter and barely qualifies as a liquid.

It would be nice to have something a little better. It would be nice to have something _good_ for once.

“If you’re sure,” Hyungwon concedes.

“Of course I am,” Minhyuk says and flashes one of his dazzling smiles. “Don’t forget to send them my greetings!”

### VISIT: #113 — Special Class Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 28 

“Did you go? Did you go? Did you go?” Minhyuk bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. “ _Did you go_?”

“Hello to you too.” Hyungwon tries not to be too endeared by Minhyuk’s childish displays of excitement.

“Yes, hello Senior Investigator Hyungwon of the CCG. You look well rested. Could that be why you never visited me last week?”

Hyungwon flashes a sheepish smile. “I had to work. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“Don’t make it a habit.”

“I won’t,” he finds himself promising.

Minhyuk’s nails tap a rhythm on the glass. “But come on, tell me, did you go to the coffeeshop?”

“I wanted to talk about work first, if that’s alright.”

Minhyuk raises a hand to his brow, sighs heavily. It would seem like a very clear refusal of the topic but Hyungwon has become familiar with Minhyuk’s fondness for performance. “I suppose if you _insist_.”

“The Commissioner announced promotions at last week’s annual meeting.”

HIs eyes widen in interest. “And?”

“I haven’t slept properly in about forty two hours.”

“ _And_?”

“I was made Special Class Investigator.” He’d waited all week to tell Minhyuk the news. The promotion came with an extraordinary amount of paperwork that Hyungwon had been slogging through and this meeting was taking a much-needed hour out of it and yet — upon seeing the smile that blooms across Minhyuk’s face, it was all worth it.

Sincerity is vivid in his voice. “Oh, really Hyungwon? That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you.” Minhyuk wraps his arms around his body, hugging himself. Almost as if he’d want to do that to Hyungwon if it wasn’t for the glass that separates them. “I knew it would happen! You work too hard for anything else.”

Hyungwon allows himself to bathe in Minhyuk’s praises. Of course, those at work congratulated him as well. Sunmi beamed and said she looks forward to showing him the ropes sometime. Seungcheol took him out to dinner and everything — but it’s different when it’s Minhyuk.

“Do you have a new office?”

“No.”

Minhyuk shakes his head. “Boring. What’s even the point, then? Extra work _and_ no new fancy building?”

“You know what,” Hyungwon never really thought of that before. “You’re right. It is disappointing. I’d like a big office.” Now that the idea is in his head, he’s quite a fan. “When I’m at headquarters, the cubicles are tiny. I keep knocking my knees against the desk.”

“Such happens when you’re freakishly tall,” Minhyuk nods sympathetically.

“And my co-workers… They’re great. Diligent. Loyal. But they chat so much. Constantly. Always about the most menial of things, like what their dog ate last night or how beautiful their child looked in the primary school production of Macbeth. It’s so _distracting_.” Truthfully, Hyungwon had never verbalized any of this before, not even in a passive-aggressive snide to Chan when he insists upon sitting on one of the desks and recounting his dinner date from last night.

“That does sound annoying!” Minhyuk tuts, his fingers crossed together.

“I understand _why_ they’re so friendly all the time, but frankly, I wish they were that friendly away from me.”

It’s so comforting, actually, to have someone listen to his woes. Far too often, Hyungwon feels like the only time he is allowed to complain is in times of absolute peril. It’s for this reason that he never complains.

“What would your dream office be?” Minhyuk asks.

“An access-controlled door and wall-to-floor length windows.” As soon as he says the words, it manifests in his imagination. “No one sees me and I see everything. Would be so beautiful.”

“Mmm,” Minhyuk hums in approval. “I like it. Sounds sexy. What would you have to do to get an office like that, anyway?”

“I guess I’d have to be Commissioner.”

He lets that sink in for a moment. _Commissioner Chae_. That has power to it. That has _authority_ to it. If he was Commissioner, he’d have complete control over the entire CCG. He’d be able to run things how _he_ wants to.

Minhyuk’s smirk is wide. “Sounds like you’ve found your next goal.”

“No. I couldn’t. It’s not exactly a job that has a high turnover rate,” Hyungwon says, almost shameful for even thinking of it. “The previous Commissioner held his position for fifteen years until his death. I assume the same of our current Commissioner. And even then, it’s no guarantee I’d get the job. No, I think like most other Special Class Investigators, this will be my last promotion.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Minhyuk replies. “Ambition is never something you have in short supply.”

“It’s being realistic. I can’t aim for something that’s quite literally out of my reach.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “I don’t think that would stop you at all.” 

Hyungwon doesn’t think he’s ever had someone who has as much faith in his abilities as Minhyuk does. As wonderful as it was to vent out his frustrations, Hyungwon does think he should repay Minhyuk’s kindness. “I have some more news.”

At this, Minhyuk’s eyes flash. “And what would that be?”

“I went to the coffeeshop you told me about.”

“So you _did_ go,” Minhyuk points his finger out accusingly. “You made me wait all this time before telling me this?”

Hyungwon’s smile is a little too fond. Luckily, Minhyuk forgives easily, and in the next moment he claps his hands together in excitement.

“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?”

Perhaps Minhyuk’s taste wasn’t entirely perverse. Hyungwon found the place easy enough, and part of him expected it to be a cross between a sex dungeon and an abandoned nightclub. It was neither. The outside of the coffeeshop had barrels of blooming peonies and daisies and Hyungwon felt peace wash over him the moment he walked in. The owner introduced herself as Seunghee, invited Hyungwon to sit right up front and chatted to him like he was an old friend.

“I’ve never tasted better coffee in my life.”

“Right?” Minhyuk nods. “Seunghee just knows what she’s doing. Nothing short of magic! Were they busy?”

“Not really,” Hyungwon answers. He had been the only customer there for most of the time, and it was rather nice like that. He could decompress. He made no mention that he worked for the CCG, didn’t want to even think of work. When Seunghee’s wife, Seungyeon, enquired what he did for a living, the lie came easy to the tip of Hyungwon’s lips: he was an artist. They gushed over that as well, expressing he had the look of a creative, the soulful eyes of a poet. Hyungwon had visibly blushed.

Minhyuk’s attention is entirely fixed on Hyungwon. “How are the ladies? Are they well?”

“They were very friendly. Seunghee kept trying to give me free biscotti, and I kept refusing and she _kept_ giving it to me. They’re both so wonderful.” Hyungwon pauses. “I can see why you like them.”

Strange, really. The only one of Minhyuk’s friends that Hyungwon knew at all was Kihyun, and he only really heard about him after his death. Even so, Kihyun was what he’d expected from such an associate: a dangerous, destructive ghoul. The coffeeshop owners could not be more different. Delicate human women with a love blooming almost as brightly as their flowers. Their smiles were wide and their laughter loud at each other’s jokes. Seemed genuinely _interested_ in Hyungwon, something he didn’t often experience unless it was Minhyuk at the other side of the conversation.

“It may not seem like it, but I consider myself to be close to them. We all need a friend in our life that makes us feel like we can be ourselves. A friend that feels like home,” Minhyuk says softly. “I find that in Seunghee and Seungyeon.”

People often say you judge others by the company they keep. The discovery that this company includes domestic coffeeshop owners makes it a little more difficult to place Minhyuk. He discovers more and more about his depths each week, yet he still doesn’t think he’s even scratched the surface of what lies underneath.

“I like them. They’re good people,” Hyungwon concedes. 

“It’s true, I have the greatest taste in the world,” He grins. “So, did you mention me?”

“Ah, I did.”

It had been a subject of intense deliberation. But Hyungwon had been tired, the coffee had been sweet and the conversation pleasant, and when Seunghee asked in that singsong voice of hers, “How did you find out about our little shop?”, it just seemed natural for Hyungwon to reply, “Minhyuk recommended it to me.”

“What did they say?” Minhyuk presses.

The truth of what they said was: “Oh that’s a pleasant surprise!” without missing a beat. Seunghee had placed another biscotti on Hyungwon’s saucer, and asked with an inquiring tilt of her head, “How do you know him? Are you friends?”

And that word tasted strange on Hyungwon’s mouth, like something incredibly bitter and decadently rich at the same time. Something he was never supposed to taste at all. “A little like that,” Hyungwon answered.

And Seungyeon had elbowed her wife then and whispered with a wink, “Oh, are you his _lover_?” And to that Hyungwon had spluttered coffee all over the table, and immediately reached for the napkins in an attempt to save both his reputation and his work shirt.

Hyungwon does not think he’ll share this with Minhyuk.

“I mentioned that I knew you. They asked how you were.”

“And what did you say about that?”

“Aren’t you rather curious?”

Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “You seem to forget that you are the only social interaction I have. Of course I’m going to interrogate you over every detail. Living vicariously through you is all I have left.” And then he _pouts,_ his eyes wide and guileless and Hyungwon feels whatever remaining resolve he had crumble.

“Said that you were well. Seunghee said they missed seeing you around.” He hesitates. “They want you to drop by again soon.”

Minhyuk’s smile fades slightly. “Oh.”

“They also told me to come back soon. Apparently their hazelnut latte is the answer I’ve always been looking for.” He tries to keep his tone light, but Minhyuk seems off.

“Thanks for telling me this, Hyungwon.” Gratitude is not something Hyungwon typically associates with Minhyuk. “It means a lot to know that there are still people in this world who remember me. That wish I was still around.”

For a fleeting second, Hyungwon wonders if he’d be able to pull it off. He’s a Special Class Investigator now, that comes with more authority — what if he’s able to persuade the Commissioner to allow Minhyuk out for the day under Hyungwon’s strict guidance? If they are able to fabricate an excuse that another ghoul is in a nearby Ward that Minhyuk is in contact with, perhaps on the way they can just pop in at the coffeeshop, Minhyuk could see his friends—

The idea is so ridiculous, Hyungwon pinches himself to bring him back to reality. Minhyuk can never leave this cell. He lost that right a hundred times over. If Hyungwon finds himself forgetting, he can just read the police reports. He might do that tonight. 

“I’m glad they didn’t forget about me,” Minhyuk says, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. “I was a little worried about that honestly.”

And just like that, even though Hyungwon reminded himself of Minhyuk’s true nature, of his life as #113, a Binge-Eater so devoted to his own selfish hunger he sees no issue in ripping apart whoever crosses his path — he sees the person underneath that all. The one he’s been getting to know in flashes, that he drifts further out to sea for. That seems so broken at even the idea of being forgotten, that even just a passing greeting by his friends seems to renew his will to live.

It’s been a habit not to look at Minhyuk too closely. Started out because Minhyuk could be terrifying to look at with his sharp teeth and sharper smile, but later because Hyungwon didn’t like to think too much about how soft his hair must be, or how perfectly angular his cheekbones are to the degree that they almost seem sculpted. He lets himself look now. Hyungwon realizes now how pale Minhyuk is, how his sallow skin hangs around his face. He had always been thin, but it’s different now, even his prison uniform is loose on his shoulders. The Cochlea has siphoned away Minhyuk’s luster.

“Why do you seem surprised? Did you really think that they’d stop caring about you if you stopped coming by?” Hyungwon asks.

“I expect that with everyone.”

Ridiculous. The Binge-Eater is one of the most infamous ghouls in all of Tokyo. Everyone knows who he is. He’s the definition of unforgettable. Hyungwon almost tells him as much — and then pauses. Minhyuk's concern has little to do with his reputation as a vicious killer, and everything to do with who he is beyond his hunger. Minhyuk longs to be remembered by the people he calls his friend.

Ghoul prison is about containment. Human prison is about rehabilitation. Hyungwon wonders if things were different, if they tried to _understand_ ghouls instead of locking them away, what could have happened? Would there be hope for a Minhyuk of tomorrow? Could he shed the bloodstained shackles of his past life and assimilate into society, move towards an existence that doesn’t harm anyone else?

He’s been quiet for a long time, but Hyungwon can’t stop his train of thought. He decides to make a rule for himself. He can’t think about Minhyuk outside of the Cochlea. Not anymore. That’s when it gets dangerous. And as if knowing that once he leaves, he will have to obey this, he can’t stop himself indulging in the silly coffeeshop fantasies of his mind now.

“I hope that for you too, you know,” Minhyuk says. Washed-out and tired, his eyes still retain that sparkle. “I hope that when we part ways, you’ll still remember me.”

“What do you mean by that?” Hyungwon says. Laughs nervously. “I’m not going anywhere.” It sounds too intimate. So he adds: “And neither are you.”

Minhyuk’s smile is wistful. “Right. Of course. Forgive me, you know how foolish I can be from time to time.”

### VISIT: #113 — Special Class Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 36

“What’s the date today?” Minhyuk asks.

“28th October.”

He nods slowly. Digests the information.

“Does that matter to you?” Hyungwon asks, and then flinches, because that came out harsher than he expected. Minhyuk is unaffected.

“It’s my birthday soon,” he announces. “November 3rd.”

Hyungwon pauses. He had been writing up the notes to a casefile. For the past two months or so, he’s started to take advantage of the time he spends here to catch up on work. He doesn’t feel the need to interrogate Minhyuk until he says something substantial that could be added to the CCG archives. He can just show up without expectation. Of course, sometimes they do talk — but other times they just sit on opposite sides of the glass, content in silence, occasionally interspersed by Minhyuk’s stream of consciousness babbling.

“Oh,” Hyungwon says.

“You look surprised, Investigator,” Minhyuk says with a smirk, “Did you think ghouls don’t have birthdays?”

“Of course not,” Hyungwon lies. “Well. Happy early birthday, I suppose.”

“Your concern is touching.”

He bows his head, gets back to work on his report. The only sound is the scritch of his pen on the paper while Minhyuk continues his yoga routine.

“You seem quite distracted today,” Minhyuk says, in the middle of a stretch that emphasizes the perkiness of the lower half of his body. Hyungwon immediately looks back down at his report.

“Just busy with work.”

“What a boring excuse. You’ve used it at least ten times already.”

“It’s not an excuse if it’s the truth.”

It’s a little uncomfortable not maintaining eye contact while they’re talking, but Hyungwon just really doesn’t feel like seeing if Minhyuk can do the splits. Again. He remembers the first time with sufficient clarity.

“Get some sleep tonight, okay?”

“I will,” Hyungwon promises.

When he’s in bed that night, all he can think about is the third of November.

### VISIT: #113 — Special Class Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 37

“The most interesting thing happened to me yesterday, Investigator,” Minhyuk says. “I wouldn’t think I’d have the capacity to be intrigued considering my life has become a series of repetitive interactions interspersed only by your visits, and yet, here I am: surprised.”

Hyungwon schools his face into a look of absolute blankness. “Is that so? Do tell.”

“The guards came into my cell. This is not particularly common, as you can imagine. For a moment I was almost certain they were about to bash my head against the sink because they needed the space for the new S-rated superstar. Imagine my pleasure when that was not the case at all, and they instead presented me with _this_.”

Minhyuk lifts his hand, and between his fingers is a book. It’s thin with an ornately embossed cover. “It’s a gift. Apparently.”

“What an honour. I wonder what you’ve done to deserve that?”

“According to the guards, it was because of ‘good behaviour’.”

“Well done,” Hyungwon replies. “See what happens when you stop snapping your jaw at everyone? Maybe we can civilize you yet.” 

“Call me ignorant, but I’m not familiar with the Cochlea being one of the more _benevolent_ prison systems,” Minhyuk cocks his head to the side.

“Perhaps it’s a new initiative.”

“And what timing as well! To think, it was my birthday yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Hyungwon says, raises his eyebrow. “Happy belated birthday. What a wonderful coincidence.”

Minhyuk nods. “Couldn’t put it better myself.”

“Are you enjoying your book?”

“I am. Incredibly so. And funny you mention that, actually,” he flips through the pages as he paces around his cell. “There’s one other thing which I think is just very interesting.”

“Do tell.”

“I actually started reading this book a long time ago. It was something my friend thought I should take a look at. You won’t know him. He died earlier this year actually, but I always regret never finishing it. How incredible it is that after all this time, I get the opportunity to finally read Kihyun’s last recommendation to me.”

Hyungwon purses his lips. “Nothing short of a miracle, I’m certain.”

“I just wonder how anyone could have known.” His eyes are locked with Hyungwon’s.

Feels like he’s sinking. Hyungwon’s tries to keep himself steady. “You’ve spoken so much to me. Perhaps they read the logs. Perhaps you mentioned it in passing many months ago and have already forgotten. Or, it really is coincidence. Can we be sure of anything in this world?”

“No, I suppose we can’t,” Minhyuk says. He doesn’t stop staring, and neither does Hyungwon.

It seems like entire years pass, seasons come and go, the passage of time presses ruthlessly on before Minhyuk finally looks away. The conversation flows like it should after that. They speak about Hyungwon’s new partner, they speak of the weather, they speak of an SS-rated ghoul recently taken down by Sunmi and the book is forgotten.

Until, as Hyungwon swipes his keycard to leave he hears Minhyuk’s voice, soft but clear: “Thank you.”

### INCIDENT REPORT: #113-IV11 — Written by First Rank Investigator Choi Seungcheol

SEUNGCHEOL: “Just go over the facts. You only need to tell me what you remember.”

HYUNGWON: “Your face was the first thing. The sewers all look the same after a while, you know? And I’d been there for so long, I could only guess the passage of time from cracks in the brickwork. When I heard the grate open, I thought it was him coming back to finish me off. I was almost excited for the opportunity to see him again.”

SEUNGCHEOL: “Excited?”

HYUNGWON: “Yes. I was unarmed and injured, but Seungcheol you don’t understand. Every single moment in that place I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even if it killed me, I needed that confrontation. I needed to see him one last time.”

SEUNGCHEOL: “But you would have lost.”

HYUNGWON: “So? [pause] What has that got to do with anything? I’d have taken him on with fucking plastic forks if it meant I got to see that fucking smirk one more time.”

SEUNGCHEOL: “They’ve got you on some pretty heavy painkillers, Hyungwon. Are you sure you’re fit to be interviewed for this report? I can always just submit what I already have.”

HYUNGWON: “Don’t be ridiculous. [snorts] I’m fine. I’m a lot better than I was a few days ago, I’ll tell you that much. Haha.”

SEUNGCHEOL: “It looked really bad. You were so pale, Hyungwon. Your shoulder was in terrible condition. We were all so worried.” [Note: _SEE FULL REPORT FOR FURTHER DETAILS_ ]

HYUNGWON: “It’s fine. He’s going to have to try harder than that to kill me. Where is he?”

SEUNGCHEOL: “Where’s #113?”

HYUNGWON: “Who else?”

SEUNGCHEOL: “I don’t really think I have the authority to give you this information.”

HYUNGWON: “I’m missing an entire chunk of my arm, and you’re going to say no to me?”

SEUNGCHEOL: “Hyungwon…”

HYUNGWON: “It’s not like I can do anything. I just want to know where he is. If I could, I’d never let my eyes leave his sight.”

SEUNGCHEOL: “You don’t have to worry about that. He’s in the Cochlea. S-rated cell. I don’t know more than that. You’d have to ask the Commissioner. And he’d never let you go, he just started the job.”

HYUNGWON: “Right. Okay. Fine.”

SEUNGCHEOL: “It doesn’t matter anyway, Hyungwon. He’s in jail. He’ll never hurt you again. You need to move on. I’m saying this as your friend.”

**[END OF REPORT. STAMPED AND SIGNED BY CHO MIYEON.]**

### VISIT: #113 — Special Class Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 38

“Thanks for coming, Investigator Chae,” Miyeon purses her lips. “You can come right into my office.”

Hyungwon has the strange sense of familiarity that he’s in school, and the principal is about to reprimand him. The door to Miyeon’s office clicks behind her. Like every other room in the Cochlea, the walls are an all-encompassing white. Furnishings are always a sleek steel grey, and Miyeon allocates Hyungwon to his seat with a series of pointed eyebrow movements.

“This is a bit unconventional, I’m aware, but…” Miyeon grits her teeth like there's bitterness on her tongue. “I think this situation is fairly unconventional.”

“Am I in trouble?” Hyungwon says. He outranks her now, he’s fairly certain. But he would die before he says that aloud. Miyeon and her sharp eyebrows are far more powerful than all of Hyungwon's quinques.

“No, not at all. Sorry, I realize I’m being rather vague.” She’s nicer today. Might be as a result of the cup of coffee next to her computer. There are no personal artifacts of any kind found alongside. “I don’t wish to get too into the details because I’m familiar with your history and I wouldn’t want to cause you to relive painful memories. But it’s my job to know what every single ghoul is in this prison has done. I don’t interfere with the CCG investigators, not as long as the Commissioner gives his permission, but… we need to talk about #113.”

“The Binge-Eater,” Hyungwon says, but what he means is _Minhyuk_.

“The one and the same. S-rated. Active for many, many years. Investigators report him as being unrepentant, chaotic and sadistic. You regularly visit him, correct?”

Hyungwon crosses his arms. “I do.”

Miyeon nods. “But you haven’t recently. Not for the past month. Five weeks if we’re going to be specific.”

Air conditioning is so intense in this office. It must be the reason why there’s an uncomfortable prickle at the back of Hyungwon’s neck. “That’s correct. Personal reasons.”

“Of course, Investigator. I would never expect you to divulge something like that. I am not too familiar with what the CCG headquarters gets up to, but I’ve heard that through your persistent interrogations, you’ve obtained an incredible amount of information on ghoul society and behaviour from #113.”

Interrogate. What a funny idea, like Hyungwon stands there and demands questions. Perhaps that’s what Hyungwon originally envisioned when he started visiting Minhyuk, but he realized fairly quickly Minhyuk didn’t respond well to that. He was much more suited for casual conversation. With little prompting, he could go off for hours and hours.

“That is correct. I’ve filled up entire volumes of the CCG archives.”

“And we’re so grateful for that!”

“What’s the problem then?”

Miyeon inhales like she’s about to break a difficult piece of news. “He’s been a little upset that you haven’t been to visit him in a while.”

The guilt that Hyungwon had been carrying for the past five weeks weighs down on his shoulders. “How would you know that? I wasn’t aware that you speak to him regularly. Or that anyone does.”

“That’s where the problem comes in,” Miyeon says and slides Hyungwon a folder. “He’s started leaving us messages in his own blood.”

Certain that he’s misunderstood her words, Hyungwon flips over the cover of the file. At first, it’s transcripts of various police reports made about Minhyuk over the years. Hyungwon ignores them all, focuses on the stack of five photographs. Each one is of Minhyuk’s cell — and each of them have a message scrawled on the glass in a sickly shade of deepest red.

“Oh.” Hyungwon stares. “Oh God.”

_Do you know I miss you? xx_

He thumbs through the next photograph. It’s of a different angle, clearly a different day. Minhyuk is sleeping on his bed but the message on the glass has changed.

_Hyungwon. It’s been so long. Please come back. xx_

He traces his fingers over his name. He turns to the next one and it continues in this pattern for all of them. In the final photograph Minhyuk is in the corner, his kagune visible, his hands soaked in blood. Hyungwon feels queasy.

Miyeon leans over and inspects the photograph herself. “Are those x’s at the end supposed to be…”

Hyungwon slams the file shut. “I have absolutely no idea.”

She retracts her fingers just in time. If she’s startled by Hyungwon’s reaction, she doesn’t dare ask. “As you can see, this is highly irregular. We have allowed #113 the use of his kagune and up to this point there have been no incidents — but if you think we should revoke it, you can let us know. We’ll start the suppressant injections immediately.”

“No,” Hyungwon says, far too quickly. He takes a moment to compose himself. “What’s the point? Take away his kagune and he’ll just scratch himself until he bleeds. I don’t think the issue is _how_.”

“Makes sense, Investigator,” Miyeon nods. “Typically, we would never even bother someone of your caliber with an issue like this, but this is a very specific situation. You have history with #113 after all, and you have been visiting him regularly. I am not at the liberty to know what you’ve been discussing, and if he’s a source of information for you and the CCG, we can hardly do what we usually do to stubborn ghouls.”

She’s so rational.

“You’re not bothering me,” is all Hyungwon can manage. His gaze is fixed on the manilla file, unable to stop staring at it. He gazes at the first photograph again. Attempts to put aside the initial emotions of revulsion and shock so that he can make a decision based in objectivity. There’s something else, though. An undercurrent of a deeper and darker emotion. The part of him that’s kind of glad that Minhyuk misses him, that feels … _flattered_ that he cares so much he’s willing to bleed out just so Hyungwon can know. He must have thought of Hyungwon so much, was so _desperate_ to know where he’d been that he’d do this to himself, he’d risk telling the authorities of his prison if it meant letting Hyungwon know his absence is noted. Minhyuk, who fears so little, who’s fickle at best, never stays in a place for too long — reduced to this state, practically begging Hyungwon to return. It’s hard not to like it, just a little. 

Hyungwon’s becoming as sick and perverse as the monsters he’s meant to destroy.

“Do you have any suggestions, Investigator?” Miyeon asks him, manicured fingers tapping on the desk.

“Yes,” Hyungwon says. “I’ll go see him.”

Miyeon blinks. “Are you sure, Investigator? He might be in an agitated state.”

“I can handle him,” Hyungwon says, rises to his feet. “Do you have the log here? I’ll sign in and get straight down there.”

“If you’re going to keep taking photographs, I think you should start paying me.” Minhyuk’s voice is warbled. “A face like this demands a certain level of upkeep and that doesn’t come cheap.”

It takes Hyungwon a moment to parse his vision. Minhyuk is upside down, hangs from the ceiling by his kagune. His blonde hair flops around him. His eyes are closed. Meditation does not seem like a technique someone like Minhyuk would employ, but it is the most reasonable explanation for his intentional effort to keep himself calm.

Given the opportunity to stare without consequence, Hyungwon does so. Minhyuk looks exactly the same as he did five weeks earlier, and exactly the same as he did in every single one of the dreams Hyungwon has been having since. He shivers unconsciously at that thought. Everything had been fine until then, until the morning after his last visit, when he woke up with stained sheets. Ignorance was brief before he was propelled back into the events of what had occurred in his mind. Details were blurry but maybe it was better like that, all Hyungwon remembered was how it _felt_. 

Unconsciousness provided the images of Minhyuk’s fair skin mottled in bruises the shape of Hyungwon’s mouth, of his eyes heavy-lidded and dilated, of his lips at Hyungwon’s cock, of swallowing it down with that same ravenous hunger he approaches everything in his life. Minhyuk is everything that Hyungwon is not — where Hyungwon shows restraint and discipline, Minhyuk is wildfire and he isn’t sure how much longer he can pretend he doesn’t want to be ignited. Blonde hair would look so good wrapped in Hyungwon’s fingers, after all.

Hyungwon wanted to bathe in the fantasy for a moment longer, enjoy the phantom touch of Minhyuk’s lips against his neck, his hand slithered down to his pyjama bottoms — and then his alarm rang, and Hyungwon _realized_.

Three cups of coffee and a call to the Commissioner that traffic was bad and he’d be at work a little late was the result of Hyungwon’s subsequent moral spiral. Luckily, like most of Hyungwon’s moral spirals, it came to a clear solution. This was the result of a tired and overworked brain, and a libido suppressed since university. As long as it was just that one dream, it would have been fine. But it wasn’t just the one, was it?

“Minhyuk?” Hyungwon finally breaks the silence.

His eyes snap open, his gaze grey and stormy with confusion. “Hyungwon?” And then reconsiders. “Investigator.”

Bile collects in the back of Hyungwon’s throat. “Hello. You’re upside down.”

“Well-spotted. The guards keep coming in every other day to take photographs of me. I figured I should try and keep it fresh and interesting. Maybe they’ll put me on the news.”

Something is wrong. It’s typical Minhyuk babbling but it’s contrived, even, like he’s forcing it out of himself. Wrenching his kagune out of the ceiling, he drops himself down to the floor. Debris of plaster litter the ground, but Minhyuk doesn’t appear to mind.

“It’s really you.” Bemusement tints his tone. “Did you see my messages?”

In typical CCG fashion, they cleaned the glass to a pristine state. It’s impossible to see even a trace of blood — but the photographs remain in Hyungwon’s mind. “I did.”

Minhyuk’s kagune remains visible, such a clear sign of his own distance from humanity. Hyungwon has experience with that kagune in particular, knows what it felt like as it pierced right through his shoulder. The scar’s still there. He knows it is, his fingers lingered over it last night, thinking it was the last time Minhyuk had touched him. Hyungwon should be horrified staring at it. He can remember the splintering pain, after all. Should avoid it. Instead, he can’t help but think his kagune is almost beautiful, the way the muted red pulsates like a heart.

“I’m sorry,” Minhyuk says. “I know it was messy and horrible but there was nothing else I could do, I didn’t know how else to talk to you.” 

“Don’t apologize.”

“No, I have to, I’m sorry,” he always talks fast, “I know that you’re busy, I’m sure you were but it’s been so long since I've seen you. Time is so _slow_ here, it feels like it’s been years. And I…” he swallows, “I didn’t know if you’d come back.”

Minhyuk’s entire life was composed of endless repetition, waking up in the same cell everyday, his existence punctuated by Hyungwon’s visits. It’s how's he able to monitor the passage of time, his only tether to the outside world, the only proof that life extends beyond the steel walls of the Cochlea. This is something Hyungwon knows for a fact. After all, Minhyuk told him as much.

“I must have done something wrong, but just tell me what it was, and I won’t do it again.” He sounds hurt. He sounds genuinely hurt and Hyungwon feels _awful_. His throat hurts from carrying a necklace of barbed wire.

Hyungwon drops his suitcase at the door and moves closer to the glass. “Minhyuk, do you think it’s something you did?”

“It has to be,” he replies instantly. “I replayed our last encounter in my mind twenty times a day and I can’t figure what it was, so you’ll have to please tell me. What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Hyungwon answers. “You did nothing.”

And for once, it’s not the ghoul that’s guilty. It’s him.

Compartmentalization has always come easy to Hyungwon. It’s part of the job, after all. He’d never be able to work another day if he were to fixate on the grotesque sights he bears witness to. He has defined every aspect of his life to the best of his abilities — and if he couldn’t, well that’s another box he’ll never open. This has kept him dedicated, and kept him committed. Where his peers may get distracted, Hyungwon remains with a singular focus on his career with the CCG. Yet he could devote every waking moment to his duties, but he would always be weak to his subconscious, unable to smother the feelings he’d rather keep pent up. Perhaps if he had been more lenient, he wouldn’t have found himself in this position after a few dreams. There’s so much in Hyungwon’s mind that waited to be unlocked. No matter how deep he buried these urges, he could never destroy them and they surface like weeds. It takes one moment, one lapse in a state of exhaustion, and suddenly he’s obsessed. All he can think about — and indeed all he has — is how to take Minhyuk out of prison and into the confines of his own room where he can worship and break him in with suitable privacy.

With a sharpened mind, driven to finding evidence at all costs, he starts to make justifications for his own desire. Reminds himself of all the times that Minhyuk has stared at him with eyes that sparkle even through layers of glass. A stare that Hyungwon had put down to hunger, that ravenous hunger so characteristic of those creatures. But what if it wasn’t? What if it had less to do with Minhyuk’s desire to eat his flesh but to taste it instead — that it’s lust that consumes him, not gluttony.

How many times has Seungcheol seen Hyungwon leave alone and early, and tried to tell him: “You don’t need to involve that ghoul in your life anymore. There’s no reason for you to go back.”

But there is, there always is.

“You said you missed me,” Hyungwon says. Looking at the glass, his mind superimposes the scrawls from the photographs. He can see the places Minhyuk wrote his name in his own blood.

Minhyuk’s kagune, those pulsating tendrils of crimson continuously flicker, a perpetual gradient. Hyungwon had never experienced the opportunity to examine them so closely before. When ripped from dead ghouls and implanted into quinques, it’s the same structure but fundamentally different. It’s a weapon: easy to control, ruthlessly efficient and effective in the extermination of ghouls. On Minhyuk, it’s _alive_.

His kagune twists and untwists itself. Flickers like a candle. Hyungwon can’t stop staring, tracing the outline with his mind’s eye. It should terrify him. Revulsion should be thick in the back of his throat. He just wants to get closer.

“Of course I did,” Minhyuk says, and his kagune curls behind him, almost shy. “You’re the only…” and trails off.

“Yes?” Hyungwon prompts as gently as he can.

Minhyuk shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Hyungwon, are you okay? Did something happen?” 

No. Not really, no. Technically, nothing has changed.

He goes to work everyday and sits at the same desk with the title of Special Class Investigator and his co-workers are still far too loud and it’s still the same disgusting coffee and _nothing has changed_. Except now as he leafs through the files assigned, his mind is miles away in the Cochlea. He tries not to think about Minhyuk but it’s about as easy as just deciding to stop breathing. A bell has been rung that he can’t unring, and every passing day just reminds Hyungwon of how heavy the desire hangs inside of him.

It’s a breach of so many of the moral and ethical codes Hyungwon holds dear, that he’s dedicated his _life_ towards. He’d never act on them. That’s what he keeps telling himself. But the mere idea that he’s _thinking_ about them, that when he stands in the shower that morning, he strokes himself to the thought of what Minhyuk’s pretty mouth would say when he’s inside him. He’s always so fucking chatty, always has so many clever witticisms to share, what would he babble when Hyungwon fucks into him? Would he beg for more or just keep that smirk upon his face even as his hands clenches into Hyungwon’s sheets?

He can never go back. That’s what he resolved to himself as he stared at the sticky traces of his shame on the shower wall. He doesn’t think he can trust himself. He’s devoted himself to a career with the CCG, has achieved so much and he will not let it crumble based on an infatuation built of Hyungwon’s own depravity. Because that’s what it is. A lifetime of hunting ghouls has made him just as bad as the creatures he’s meant to dispatch.

And yet, Hyungwon has to wonder if he can just place the blame on the entire species. Doesn’t make a lot of sense, really, and Hyungwon’s rooted himself in logic as far as possible. Maybe it’s less than this is something new — maybe he’s always been like this, he’s just hidden it for so long, and so well, that he never knew himself that he was capable of such depths.

Maybe that’s why they suit each other, they both have their own brand of depravity, it just so happens to be compatible. 

“You can’t write those messages anymore, Minhyuk,” Hyungwon says, voice soft. “They’ll give you kagune suppressants. I stopped them doing it this time but you have to be careful. It’s very easy for them to cause you harm. They won’t hesitate.”

“I didn’t _want_ to write them but I had to. How else could I speak to you? I had to do something.”

Concern cannot be kept out of his words. “Didn’t it hurt?”

Minhyuk blinks in confusion. “Yeah. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not worried about pain, I haven’t been for a long time.” Hyungwon imagines how his kagune, rippling and brilliant, must have pierced into his own flesh, blood rippling out. What a macabre scene it must have been. All just to tell him he _misses_ him.

“It won’t happen again,” Hyungwon says.

“As long as you don’t leave.” Pleading. The ghoul is pleading.

That’s not what Hyungwon meant at all. “Not that. I meant, I won’t ever do this to you again. You shouldn’t have to apologize. I should.”

He doesn’t look like he believes him.

“I don’t know, Minhyuk.” Honesty tastes strange in his mouth. “I don’t know much about anything. But I shouldn’t have hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Silence echoes around the cell. “Are you apologizing to me?” Minhyuk asks.

“Yes.”

When Minhyuk’s kagune dissolves, it’s like sand slipping through his fingers. He steps closer, till he’s so close, he can see his breath mist on the glass. Doesn’t touch it, though. 

It scares Hyungwon, it does. All of this does. He’s never been a violent man, he’s never been such a slave to his own carnal desires, but he has to wonder if that’s just because he’s suppressed it. All Minhyuk did was give him a vessel for the capabilities Hyungwon always had inside of him. All Minhyuk did was ignite an obsession that always burns. Because that’s the thing isn’t it:

Why does he never go for coffee with any of his friends, why does he go on dates and wait for the first opportunity to escape, why do all cases at work _bore_ him?

Because he’s obsessed.

“I missed you too.” The confession is surface-level, treads the lightest ground. Moves mountains, though. Minhyuk’s eyes widen.

“You did?”

Hyungwon’s tongue sits heavy in his mouth. “Always. I’d see you all the time if I could. I don’t think I’d ever leave here. I’ve tried to keep my distance far too many times to count, but I still can’t stop thinking about you.”

Hunger is familiar in Minhyuk’s eyes.

“But I won’t anymore,” Hyungwon continues. There’s a shiver in his voice, ever so slightly. “I… I’ve given up on that. This time has just proven that I can’t. I promise I won’t leave you like that again. I don’t think I’d be able to.”

“Good,” Minhyuk says, and seems to contain pages and pages of unsaid sentiments in the single syllable.

Hyungwon’s hand shakes even as he lifts it to the glass, presses his palm against it.

Minhyuk tilts his head to the side. He seems to memorize the span of it before he dares to raise his own. Replicates the gesture till their hands are mirrors of each other, separated by a layer of glass as thick as worlds apart. Feels like it gets thinner and thinner in the span of seconds.

“Am I still a monster, then?” Minhyuk asks. He braces himself for the answer.

“It would be easier if you were.”

### VISIT: #113 — Special Class Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 46

“You seem happier,” Minhyuk notes.

“Try saying that less like it’s a bad thing.” Hyungwon rolls his eyes, but doesn’t try and hide his smile. “What prompted that?”

“I should ask you.” He’s perched on top of his sink again. At first, Hyungwon thought it was rather birdlike of him — he’s corrected that impression now. Nearly everything about Minhyuk exudes a certain cat energy, including his insistence upon sitting on things that are not meant for that purpose.

“I’ve been sleeping more,” Hyungwon says after a moment.

“Now that is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Perhaps you were right. I am overworking myself.”

Minhyuk closes his eyes in absolute bliss. “Shh. Don’t say anything else. I need to memorize this moment so I can replay it for the rest of my life.”

“You are so unnecessary.”

“I’m being absolutely serious. When I’m gone, I’ll remember this all the time.” Minhyuk sighs in pleasure. “You said I was _right_.”

Hyungwon’s brows furrow at that. “What do you mean when you’re gone?”

There’s a prolonged pause. Minhyuk stares straight ahead of him, his mouth opening and closing slightly as if trying to decide what to say. “I don’t know. I forget sometimes, I guess, that there’s nothing that comes after this.”

He doesn’t have more he can say to this, can only watch him through the glass and wonder what he leaves unsaid.

### VISIT: #113 — Special Class Investigator Chae Hyungwon — Occurrence 52

Hyungwon is not done signing, hasn’t even lifted the pen off the paper when it’s wrenched away, replaced by Miyeon’s bloody grip. He steps back in horror. She claws herself up using the counter as leverage. Collapses on the surface to regain her strength, breathing heavily. Lacerations are carved across her chest. Her once prim and proper uniform is stained shades of crimson.

“Miyeon, what’s—”

“Fuck,” she exhales, her nails tearing into the visitor log paper as she rises to face him. “Hyungwon. The ghouls.” Her words come out in pants, her face scrunched up in agony. “They’ve invaded.”

What Hyungwon took as oddities: the lack of guards at the outer gate, the way it was so quiet at the reception, suddenly makes far too much sense. “When? How?”

“CCG is already here. Think they’ve gone. The ghouls. _Fuck_. One of the fuckers got me bad. That _bitch_ #826. God, it hurts.” She stares at him, blinking in confusion. “Why are you standing around and looking at me like that? Didn’t you get the messages?”

“My phone was off,” Hyungwon says numbly. Recalls that this morning he took his time combing his hair, sprayed himself with cologne till he drowned in it, even hummed something on the way to the train station. Had been to the coffeeshop a few days earlier and was excited about the prospect of sharing the news about Seunghee and Seungyeon’s adoption plans with Minhyuk. And, no, he didn’t want to be disturbed.

“The Cochlea has been breached. The Commissioner is dead,” Miyeon states. “And you had your fucking phone turned off like you’re at the damn cinema?”

“Have any prisoners escaped?”

“No shit, hey?” Miyeon growls and then immediately winces, her arm coming up to support her side. “Most of them are already too far gone for us to catch them. You should go and check the lower level cells. Make yourself useful.”

Hyungwon is reminded again that he outranks her. He doesn’t stay and argue, however, his feet carry him down the path imprinted his mind. If he hears screams, if he sees bloodstains, he ignores it all, his focus is singular. His focus is #113.

Fear builds heavy in his heart when he turns the corner. There’s the crumpled figure of the warden lying in pieces near the door having been blasted off its hinges. Hangs there, like a crooked smirk. Hyungwon wishes he could suppress the weight of his thoughts.

Funny how Hyungwon never realized how _big_ Minhyuk’s cell could be. It always felt small. Claustrophobic at times. Minhyuk would certainly agree. The entire city used to be his playground and for the past year he’s been restricted to a rectangle the size of three parking spots. Yet, when Hyungwon steps inside the cell now, it feels as vast and empty as the outer reaches of space. Glass cracks underneath his feet, splinters into the flesh of his heel. Hyungwon grits his teeth through his pain. 

It doesn’t feel real. Not with the glass broken. The glass was a point of stability in the chaos of the world. If there was no glass, there was nothing to stop Hyungwon from doing all the things he dreamt of to Minhyuk. But he isn’t even here. Hyungwon paces back and forth in the empty cell and it doesn’t _feel_ like Minhyuk isn’t here. He has to be. Where else would he go?

 _Everywhere_ , Hyungwon’s mind supplies, _he has no commitment to the Cochlea, and none to you either_.

Hyungwon turns around, his back to the fractured glass and stares ahead. He needs to arrange his priorities. He needs to approach this pragmatically and logically like the Special Class Investigator he is. He needs to throw all his efforts into finding Minhyuk, #113, the Binge-Eater who is a danger to society, and time is of the essence. He needs to not think about the pit in his chest, and needs to focus on where to go next. Reconvening with Seungcheol and the other surviving CCG officers is a must. His grip tightens on his briefcase.

“I knew you’d come,” is all Hyungwon hears before he’s thrown against the wall. _Blur_. Everything’s a blur, and his eyes open to a haze of pain and confusion. Training kicks in, and he reaches blindly for his quinque only to find the briefcase flung to the edge of the room.

“I’m sorry if that hurt,” Minhyuk chirps. “I’m a little out of practise so I might play a little rough.”

Unsteady, Hyungwon raises himself to his feet. “ _You_.”

“Did you expect anyone else? You’re in _my_ cell, after all.” Unleashed, Minhyuk looks happier than he has for very many months. No one is more well placed to observe this than Hyungwon, who has watched him through it all.

Physically he’s the same, skin still sallow, hair still blonde, but he can’t seem to stop _smiling_.

“What are you doing here? Why are you…” Even if every single CCG official in the Cochlea was already dead, more would arrive any moment. Whatever ghouls orchestrated the breakout have already left. Lingering serves no purpose. Unless, of course, Minhyuk was after something particular.

“Wouldn’t be fair for me to leave without saying goodbye,” Minhyuk replies.

“Fuck you,” Hyungwon snarls. In a swift motion, he sprints towards his quinque, fingers closing on the steel of his briefcase — but he’s interrupted by the swipe of Minhyuk’s kagune. Topples to the floor, hears a disconcerting noise from his jaw and grunts. His heartbeat rushes in his ears.

“As much as I love fighting with you, we just don’t have the _time_ ,” Minhyuk frowns. “Come on, let me help you up.” He extends out his arm. Hyungwon has never seen it so close before. Dainty fingers extend from a powerful hand. Unbidden, he almost accepts the help — and then tastes the blood welling in his mouth, and spits it out instead. Stains his pale skin a deep red.

Minhyuk’s eyes narrow. “Manners never hurt anyone.”

“How the fuck did you manage this?” Hyungwon demands. “The Cochlea is impenetrable, you can’t just orchestrate a breakout of this scale—”

“You won’t believe me, but this,” Minhyuk gestures to his surroundings. “It’s not me. The breakout has everything to do with the issues in the upper wards, and nothing to do with me. As for how I _personally_ was freed? I had some help.” This falls in line with what Miyeon was trying to say earlier. Only a ghoul organization would be able to pull off a coup this specific, this _capable_.

Doubt is thick in Hyungwon’s voice. “Who’d help you? You’ve given information against every ghoul here, they’d never trust you—” and then Hyungwon trails off. Dots begin to connect. “It’s someone on the outside, isn’t it?”

“My clever boy,” Minhyuk preens.

He tastes his own blood in his mouth. “No one knows you’re in here besides the CCG. And they’d never let _you_ out. I’m the only one in the damn organization who knows you.”

A pout grows on his face. “Well, your tone is very mean. The others just haven’t met me yet.”

With difficulty, Hyungwon rises to his feet. Even if he’s unsteady, even if he falls, he always stands up until he never can again. “No other CCG official would _touch_ you because they know you’re mine.”

He wipes the blood off of his mouth with the side of his sleeve. Minhyuk licks his lips.

“You are _my_ case, #113.”

“Good. I like it that way. There’s never been another investigator like you, after all.” His kagune flares up, and Hyungwon is fast enough to miss the first tendril that strikes — but not the next two. Time slows down, and Hyungwon can see the way the kagune pierces through the fabric of his shirt. Pins him to the wall like he’s a dartboard. For an agonizing moment, Hyungwon can only hear the sounds of his own strained breathing.

His shoulder would not handle another wound like the last time. The doctors said as much after his surgery. The devastation it would have on his career as an investigator would be untold. And it would _hurt._ God, it would hurt. Hyungwon’s eyes are shut as he attempts to assess the harm Minhyuk’s kagune has wrought. He can _feel_ them, pulsating, strumming, _alive_. He can feel blood trickle from the flesh of his left shoulder, but it’s more like a scrape, a result of being flung to the floor. That doesn’t make sense, Minhyuk wouldn’t _miss —_ and even if he did, why hesitate? Why not just kill him now while he’s caught like a butterfly on a corkboard?

Hyungwon’s eyes fling open. Suspended against the wall by kagune alone, Minhyuk must have exercised extreme precision — the tendrils hook to his clothing, bypassing his skin entirely. Minhyuk has Hyungwon at his mercy, can finally finish the job — and all he does is wait with a smirk on his face.

“I have to go soon. I can’t keep my friends waiting,” he says, with a hint of sorrow in his voice, like he’s being told that his ride is here and he has to leave the party early.

Struggling against the kagune is meaningless. It’s far too strong. “What friends?”

“Oh, you know.” And then Minhyuk gestures with his hand. “You said you liked them.”

In the face of Hyungwon’s absolute stupidity, he stops. Stops moving. Stops breathing for a moment even. “The coffeeshop. Seunghee and Seungyeon, they’re…” It can’t be. Not that. They shared biscotti together, in _front_ of him. “You told me they were human.”

Minhyuk winces. “I did feel bad when you believed me that easily. That was so awkward, I didn’t actually think you would.” Hyungwon would snap him in two if he could. “It wasn’t meant as some insidious plan — well, it was a little. But you needed the rest, Hyungwon! You were so exhausted. I could see you were moments from a catastrophic burnout. And they make the best coffee, you agreed with me on that.”

Hyungwon wasn’t foolish enough to say that he _knew_ Minhyuk from _prison_. He runs his mind through what he told them, and no, he told them so little comparatively. All he said was that he saw him recently, and that in terms of his wellbeing, he’s fine. “How would they know you’re here?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because personally I _love_ the suits, I think they’re very sexy,” Minhyuk pauses to pat down Hyungwon’s shirt now, dusting off glass shards, “But you do dress like a Dove. And they’re very clever, after all. I wouldn’t be friends with them if they weren’t.”

“You’re a fucking monster,” Hyungwon gnashes his teeth together.

Minhyuk pouts. “Usually? Yes. This particular incident? No.” He sighs, letting his hand trace up to Hyungwon’s hair, shaking it loose of the glass that worked its way into the chestnut locks. “Believe me when I say it’s nothing personal. You couldn’t expect me to just live in prison forever, certainly?”

No. Even Hyungwon’s most depraved fantasies made certain omissions for how Minhyuk winded up from behind layers of glass to on his knees on his bedroom floor. But this was the Cochlea and it’s a _fortress_. Hyungwon would even dare say he enjoyed the idea that he always knew _exactly_ where Minhyuk — the only thing he wished was that he was unrestrained by when he could see him.

Yet, even after a year in the Cochlea, Minhyuk’s attitude never wavered, he never seemed _owned_. All of this was temporary to him, and he made that clear from the beginning. Hyungwon would not say he’s surprised, not at all. It’s another emotion altogether that clouds his mind.

“I know you’re mad at me.” Minhyuk’s tone is purposefully soothing, like he’s trying to coax a deer towards his outstretched hand. “And you have full right to be. But don’t worry! Of course, you’ll see me again. You’ll just have to find me! And won’t that be fun?”

Minhyuk sounds _excited_ of all things.

“You’re such a fancy investigator now, you’ll have no problem with it,” Minhyuk continues, massaging into Hyungwon’s scalp, his fingers curling around his hair. Feels good. Feels natural. “I’m so proud of you, you know? You’ve come so far.”

“I thought we had an agreement,” Hyungwon’s voice is softer than he’d like it to be. He stopped struggling against the kagune but also — he stopped struggling long before today. “That we wouldn’t leave each other anymore.”

Minhyuk falters. “‘It’s just for a little while. I’ll come back.” His hand sweeps down to Hyungwon’s jaw, his thumb brushing across his jawbone. “Promise.”

Hyungwon should be horrified that Minhyuk touches him like he has any _claim_ to him — instead, it’s exhilarating. Useful, even, now Hyungwon doesn’t need to feel so bad about all the times he’s imagined marking Minhyuk’s neck till it reads like a wordless incident report.

Guilt is a shadow over Minhyuk’s expression. He can’t maintain eye contact any longer, and his gaze lowers to Hyungwon’s crimson-stained lips. But he also doesn’t look elsewhere. Hyungwon sees that hunger again. The way it consumes him. It must be such a conscious effort not to devour Hyungwon right now.

“You’ve never been one to hold back before, Minhyuk,” Hyungwon finds himself saying. “Why start now?”

“Hyungwon,” Minhyuk’s voice is low, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were suggesting something.”

“You don’t know better, then.”

Minhyuk’s eyes flicker back to Hyungwon’s. His own desire is mirrored. When he kisses him, it’s as violent and bloody as it should be. Hyungwon can taste his own blood on the inside of Minhyuk’s mouth, bites down on his bottom lip till it bursts, till it mixes with his own. The moan Hyungwon pulls from Minhyuk’s mouth reverberates around the cell, his kagune flickering and flustering — and then hardening. When Minhyuk pulls away, they’re breathing the same air. They’re so close. It’s a first kiss but it feels like the only kiss, that they’ll never stop.

Hyungwon resists against the kagune keeping him back and demands Minhyuk’s mouth for his own, licks into it. Perhaps Minhyuk wasn’t expecting Hyungwon’s enthusiasm, surprise makes him vulnerable and Hyungwon is relentless, compels Minhyuk to be quiet and pliant and all those things Hyungwon can never get him to be under normal circumstances.

How much Hyungwon wishes he was not pinned here so he could weave his arms around Minhyuk, pull him in properly, or no, that’s a little too tender — maybe shove _him_ into the nearest wall, see how he likes it. Hyungwon indulges himself in the plains of Minhyuk’s graceful neck, drops hot and wet kisses like he’s laying out a path for him to follow later. Minhyuk’s nails dig into his sides then, squeaks, eyes screwed shut. His hands massage into Hyungwon’s flesh, as if an apology for earlier.

“If I knew you’d be so amicable, I wouldn’t have bothered throwing you across the room,” Minhyuk says with his voice like a purr.

“That’s a lie. You like hurting me, don’t you?” Such fondness is sickening. Hyungwon suppresses it by sinking his teeth into the underside of Minhyuk’s jaw.

“A little,” Minhyuk smirks, “I know you can take it. That’s why it’s hard to feel very remorseful.” He _digs_ his nails into the same bruises that moments ago he had been delicately massaging. Hyungwon’s head snaps backwards, hitting the wall. His teeth grit together. “You gotta be stronger, yeah? I know what’s out there, and you need to be prepared.”

Could almost be mistaken for compassion.

“You’re a monster.”

“Yeah,” Minhyuk agrees. Pulls back enough to lick the blood off Hyungwon’s lips. His eyes are pits of black, pupils a startling red. Whatever traces of humanity he possesses, slip further and further away. “I don’t really think you mind though. It would be more convincing if I didn’t feel you get harder when you said that.” 

An investigator that Hyungwon now outranks once emphasized the importance of a clear head when dealing with a ghoul. Hyungwon doesn’t give a fuck about that anymore. It doesn’t matter they’re in the ruins of the Cochlea, every hallway littered with blood and corpses of human and ghoul alike. His entire world has narrowed in on the singular points of contact between him and Minhyuk.

Abruptly, Minhyuk shifts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. Hyungwon continues to suck down his neck. It’s a rush, really, like the kind from being in a fight — and Hyungwon hasn’t been in a fight in so long. Not a proper one. He’s become too good, he’s had to, he didn’t want a repeat of his fight with—

“Someone’s coming,” Minhyuk whispers. “I need to go.”

“You can’t—”

Minhyuk silences him with a kiss so feverishly gentle, every single thought in Hyungwon’s head is dispelled. It’s almost romantic — and then Minhyuk uses his kagune to throw Hyungwon across the room, tumbling into the floor of what was formerly Minhyuk’s cell.

“What took you so long?” Seunghee hisses from the door. Her eyes widen upon seeing Hyungwon sprawled on the floor. “ _Oh_. Mr Chae, I… what a wonderful coincidence…”

Hesitation flashes across Minhyuk’s face when their gazes connect. Hyungwon reaches uselessly towards him, like some sort of lifeline. Or perhaps an invitation: _take me with you._

Minhyuk’s resolve stiffens after seeing Seunghee, and he winks at Hyungwon before he dashes through the unhinged door. He doesn’t look back. Scrambling for his quinque, Hyungwon attempts to follow. He makes it to the atrium of the Cochlea just in time to see Minhyuk, accompanied by Seunghee and Seungyeon, jump up and over — and out. They’re just smudges against the backdrop of the blue sky. 

“You look like shit.” Miyeon in contrast, seems much better. Bandaged at least. “There’s blood _everywhere_. How did you get some on your _throat_ , where are you even bleeding from?”

Hyungwon lifts a hand to his neck, and gazes down at the stains on his fingers. “Mmm. I’m fine.” He slings an arm around her waist, and supports her upright. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

### VISIT: COCHLEA ATRIUM TO OVERSEE RENOVATIONS — Commissioner Chae Hyungwon, accompanied by Second Rank Junior Investigator Joshua Hong

Work travels with him now.

“I know it’s unconventional, sir,” the youth says. He won’t stop fidgeting, clearly unaccustomed to the leather seats of the limousine. “But I know Investigator Choi from before. He’s the reason _why_ I joined the CCG. And I’ve worked so hard, sir, I’m top of my class, and I won’t let you down or him, sir. Please. I would be _honoured_ to work alongside him.”

After a few minutes of this, Hyungwon finally regards him. The youth has a face so guileless and innocent. If Hyungwon was fanciful, he’d almost say someone so sweet shouldn’t be in this line of work. “What did you say your name was?”

“Joshua Hong, sir.”

The formalities are a little excessive, sure, but they haven’t worn out their welcome yet. “Seungcheol is a personal friend of mine. He’s also an incredibly hard worker. Quite often the cases he takes are the bloodiest. He’s been on the frontlines of some of the worst sights Tokyo has ever seen.”

No hesitation. “I can handle it, sir. Making no means to undermine the gravity of what Investigator Choi has done, but I myself met him when he saved me from a ghoul attack. My life is indebted to him — and I am familiar with what it looks like when ghouls are permitted to run wild.”

There’s so much sincerity in Joshua’s tone, a raw desire to make Seungcheol proud, to make the CCG proud, to make _Hyungwon_ proud. He can’t help but feel a little fond. “I must say, I’ve never had a Junior Investigator approach me asking for an assignment before. But then again, I suppose I haven’t been in this job particularly long.”

He looks bashful. “I’m sorry for interrupting your day, sir.”

Hyungwon shrugs. “It’s a long drive. Besides, I think it’s worth seeing the Cochlea for yourself. It’s quite unlike any other building you’ll encounter in your life.” He remembers the first time he saw the looming white prison, shaped like a spiral, and the way it rendered him speechless.

Joshua nods and glues his eyes to the window.

“Other side,” Hyungwon says, as gentle as possible.

“Right. My mistake.” Joshua shifts over.

Oh, it’s difficult not to be endeared. “I’ll talk to Seungcheol,” Hyungwon decides after a moment. “I can’t guarantee anything. He might say no. And if he does agree to it, he might not even remember you.”

“And that’s okay,” Joshua says earnestly, “Just as long as he’s willing to let me prove my worth. I know I will.”

Hyungwon represses the urge to ruffle his hands through Joshua’s hair. What a good kid. He really hopes he doesn’t have to read his eulogy out in front of his surviving family in a few weeks.

“I heard the Cochlea underwent many renovations after the attack,” Joshua remarks. “I didn’t think it was possible for it to get any more secure.”

“That’s what the CCG also thought — and then it was invaded. We won’t make such a mistake again.”

“Of course, sir. We lost so many good people that day.”

“Mmm.” Hyungwon checks his phone for a moment, decides none of the messages are worth replying to. His Investigators are talented people, they can figure it out. “We’re pulling up now. Get ready.”

The stars in Joshua’s eyes would make the night sky feel shy. It looks like he’s been ready his whole life for this. The security proceedings are much quicker than it used to be before his promotion. When he steps into the atrium, he’s almost relieved to see Miyeon behind the desk.

“Commissioner,” she greets, rising to her feet.

“Vistior’s log?” He holds his hand outstretched.

She laughs. “Oh, don’t be silly, you don’t need to sign that, Commissioner. Just go right in.”

Hyungwon smiles. “I don’t think I’d be able to kick the habit, honestly.” He produces his own pen, a gift from a departed official’s family, and signs off. “You too, Joshua. You have to keep a record of every time someone visits.”

“Of course, of course, makes perfect sense,” Joshua nods rapidly.

Miyeon wears unspeakably high heels, and yet her posture is more refined than any of the boot-wearing men in his department. “Following your instructions from last month’s visit, we’ve shifted priority accordingly. The S-Class level has been entirely redone. We’ve already started moving the prisoners back to their cells. You’ll be pleased to hear we’ve reinforced them all, and with that we’ve officially completed the second phase of renovations.”

“Great to hear,” Hyungwon says. “Take me on a tour?”

“Of course, Commissioner,” she nods. She gives Joshua a passing glance in bewilderment at his presence but continues forward. “Is there any news on #417?”

“You’d be better off asking this one over here,” Hyungwon says with a good-natured smile, “He’s got his eyes on being Seungcheol’s new partner. And that’s his case, after all.”

Miyeon blinks. “Well. Good luck then.”

“As for news on the Ram’s Head? Nothing worth mentioning, but Seungcheol is dedicated. I have absolute faith in him and his moral standing,” He realizes now Miyeon is leading up down a different corridor than he’d prefer — Hyungwon turns the corner like it’s serendipitous. Miyeon immediately diverts her course accordingly, not daring to correct Hyungwon. This job brought quite a lot of little pleasures.

“Retina scanners,” Miyeon gestures in front of the door. “No more keycards. I still have to get your biometrics, Commissioner, so allow me to open it.”

“Go right ahead.”

Miyeon bends down. A perfectly manicured finger pulls down the skin underneath her eyelid, and upon a successful beeping noise resounding down the corridor, the door unseals itself. Joshua can’t quite control his expression of awe. Hyungwon finds it quite fancy as well.

The cell is different than what he remembered. The walls are no longer eggshell white, something he insisted on. The chrome makes it look so much more professional, an industrial aura to it. The pane of glass remains in the center of the room, entirely redone.

“It’s even stronger than our last prototype,” Miyeon informs Hyungwon, raps on it with her knuckles. The sound resounds in the empty room.

“All of the personnel at the Cochlea have done excellent work. I can’t thank you all enough for your hard work.”

“You know, actually since you’re here, can I consult you about something?”

His work travels with him, after all. “What can I help you with, Miyeon?” Hyungwon says. He thinks he’ll have some coffee after work. He’s recently purchased a French press and he’s so fond of it.

As if from thin air, Miyeon unearths a pencil from behind her ear, obscured by her curtain of almond hair. In the same moment, she pulls out a pocket-sized notebook, easily fitting into the inner seam of her blazer. “We need to know who you’d like to occupy this cell,” she says. “We have some candidates. Probably the most dangerous is the Blood-Guzzler, recently apprehended by Investigator Choi. It would be best if we can contain her somewhere private, where no one will disturb her. She has a foul temper.”

“Oh,” Hyungwon says. “You can’t put her here.”

Miyeon nods. “You know what, I agree. She shouldn’t be S-rated, she _should_ be SS-rated, I spoke to the Warden about it but he claimed that it wasn’t—”

“This cell is occupied.”

There’s a pause. Miyeon looks from side to side, as if perhaps, somehow in this empty room, she’s missed someone hiding. “It is?”

“This is #113’s cell.”

Miyeon’s expression cracks ever so slightly. “Commissioner, we haven’t seen #113 in over a year. I don’t think we’re getting him back anytime soon. The Binge-Eater’s whereabouts are entirely unknown, save for the bloody locations of his feeding frenzies.”

Hyungwon tilts his head to the side. “Are you doubting my capability of finding him?”

She pales. “Not at all, Sir. Of course, I mean if you think that’s what’s best. I understand that this is a decision not influenced by your personal history—”

“Oh, but this is absolutely personal.” Hyungwon smiles. “You see, when it’s something personal, it drives you to work even harder for even longer. I’m sure Joshua agrees with me.”

Joshua, who had been trying very hard to blend into the background, nods rapidly. “Absolutely.”

“Keep the cell empty. I take great pleasure in the idea of reuniting him with his one true home. I will find #113,” Hyungwon says. “It’s not a question of if. It’s a question of when.”

There’s someone in Hyungwon’s apartment. Blearily, he reaches for the lightswitch on his nightstand. At this point, he doesn’t care if the burglar finds out he’s awake. It’s not like they’ll be able to do much anyway. Reaching under his bed, he grabs his quinque. He’s hardly about to dismember some common criminal, but perhaps a good scare is all they need to return to a life on the straight and narrow — after all, there’s no wake up call like the kind that comes from one as gorgeously grotesque as a kagune.

It’s still an inconvenience, though. He had been in the middle of such a pleasant dream, and he has to attend a meeting early tomorrow morning. Having his sleep interrupted does not make for a happy individual. He hears the sound of footsteps pacing the extent of Hyungwon’s living room.

“ _You need to move out of that trash pile. You’re Commissioner now, you have to look like it. I know you have the salary to afford a decent place with an actual living room. I’ll even help you decorate!_ ” It was Sunmi who said that, deciding that it was easier to acquiesce than fight it for much longer, Hyungwon bothered to make the move. Now, he rolls his eyes. He never had a single burglary in his old place.

He runs a hand through his hair, and inhales. Opens his bedroom door.

Minhyuk looks radiant in the light of the full moon. Perfectly illuminates the harsh angles of his jawbone. His back is to Hyungwon, entirely fixed on his corkboard.

“I have a doorbell, you know,” Hyungwon murmurs.

Minhyuk’s gaze flits to Hyungwon just long enough to survey him. He double-takes. “God. Sorry. I had something planned. It involved me being naked and roses. Didn’t think you’d be such a light sleeper.”

“I don’t think I’d have survived very long if I wasn’t considering I have ghouls breaking into my apartment,” Hyungwon replies. “But I’m still interested in your original plan. Wonder how it would have played out.”

Minhyuk swallows. There’s an _awkwardness_ between them, an unfamiliarity. Hyungwon hates it. He doesn’t want this distance, not at all. He’d bare his soul to Minhyuk in this moment if it meant that they’d be on equal footing again.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Hyungwon says. Tries to keep the accusatory tone from his voice but doesn’t quite succeed. “But you are not easy to find.”

“That was for your own good and you know it.” Minhyuk fidgets with the bottom of his shirt. “You couldn’t exactly become Commissioner of the CCG if I was around.” So he’s heard, then.

“That’s a bold assumption. I can multitask, you know.”

“You can also compartmentalize, as evidenced by your entire life,” Minhyuk says — and then smirks, and it feels a little like old times. “Hyungwon, I must say, watching you rise to power has been the most satisfying experience I’ve had in a very long time. Sorry, should I say, _Commissioner_?”

The honorific never gets old. “Say it again.”

Minhyuk’s laugh is instantly soothing. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your new position. So tell me, what’s your favourite thing about it?”

“No one asks me ‘why’ anymore. I can just do what I want. If I want to take a day off to attend a lecture on coffee brewing, I can. If I want to storm a warehouse of ghouls and take no survivors, I can. And if I refuse and delegate every single case that comes my way because I’m singularly focused on the Binge-Eater, I can.”

Minhyuk nears closer, slinking like a cat. “No one else deserves this promotion more than you. I have no doubt that you worked so hard for this.”

That’s all it seems to take for Hyungwon to break. Carefully crafting his Commissioner persona took time, and perhaps because it fit snugly over him like a safety blanket, he wears it everywhere now, even in his own home. Fitting that it’s only Minhyuk who can coax it off him.

“I’m proud of you,” Minhyuk smiles.

He looks so odd here. All luminescent and inhumanly beautiful, standing next to Hyungwon’s raggedy couch and bookshelf he never touches. He doesn’t belong in something so mundane as Hyungwon’s apartment — and he certainly doesn’t belong in Hyungwon’s life. He’d just never fit in, he’s far too bright for an existence like this, where Hyungwon’s greatest joy is his French press.

“Why did you take so long?” Hyungwon hates how he sounds. Vulnerable. He’s spent the past few years trying to purge all of his softness of his flesh. Doesn’t seem that way now. “You said you’d come back.”

“I did. I’m here now,” Minhyuk sighs, runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired. Certainly stronger than he was at the Cochlea, but exhaustion is visible on him. “Honestly, Hyungwon, aren’t you glad I never showed up? You’ve got a life you’re trying to build and I can ruin it just by existing in the same room as you.”

For a moment, Hyungwon entertains the idea that any number of his subordinates are witness to this exchange. Even if they don’t know their history, even if they’re unaware of what they’re saying to each other, just the idea that an S-rated ghoul shows up at the Commissioner’s apartment in the dead of the night — and all they do is chat.

“If I wanted you gone, I wouldn’t keep looking for you.”

Minhyuk turns away. “You know I had to stay away, at least initially. Your entire department was crawling around looking for me, and I didn't leave the Cochlea just to get locked back in. And even when I wanted to return… I just ended up not being able to,” Minhyuk pauses, adds under his breath, “Not without compromising you, anyway.”

“What do you mean? Where were you?” Hyungwon wants to offer him something to drink. Anything it takes to keep him here.

Perhaps Minhyuk senses this. “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Go for it.”

Minhyuk perches like a bird on the armrest of Hyungwon’s couch. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because I spent the last year in prison. Maybe I’m out of practice. Maybe I’m getting old. But the world isn’t what it used to be. I’m not… what I used to be.” Minhyuk’s eyes are fixed on the floorboards.

Authentic wood, Hyungwon almost wants to tell him. Teak. Gives the room a warm tone.

“Maybe it sounds absurd to you but it’s not like ghouls co-exist in one big happy family,” Minhyuk remarks. “And even if we did, I think I ostracized myself pretty severely. But even that’s fine, like, I survive. Friends are easy to make, only difficult to keep.”

Hyungwon thinks of one of the core reasons he was made Commissioner: the wealth of information he added to the CCG database, almost entirely composed of his conversations with Minhyuk. Such information that came with consequences that he could not even fathom.

“No, the issue is beyond me, really.” Minhyuk exhales so heavily. “Hongseok and Changgu are relentless, you know? Bloodbaths wherever they go. They’re sloppy, they’re vindictive, they’re…” he pauses. “Terrifying.”

“Are you in danger, Minhyuk?” Hyungwon steps forward. Protectiveness rushes over him.

Minhyuk looks up at this, a weak smile on his face. “No more than usual, no need to worry about it. Honestly, I think the ones in danger are you and your friends at the CCG. It shouldn’t surprise you that they have a particular vendetta against that investigator, Seungcheol. I tried to warn him against going after them, but clearly he never listened. Fucking idiot.”

Hyungwon takes a little offense that. “Seungcheol can handle them. My department can handle them, you don’t need to worry.”

“Hyungwon, if the CCG could handle them, they wouldn’t have wiped out your entire office just a few years ago,” Minhyuk’s teeth are grit together. “I wish you could understand the gravity of the situation but maybe it’s just a human thing, to think you’re invincible as long as you wield a quinque pretty enough. You’re _not_. And I’m definitely not.”

Sobriety never fits right on Minhyuk’s face, now more than ever. In the dreams of their reunion, Hyungwon never envisioned one fraught with so much tension — and so much clothing still on their respective bodies.

“You have to be careful, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk buries his head in his hands. “They’ve already tried their best to eliminate me.”

“Clearly they haven’t been successful.”

“Haven’t they?” Minhyuk says, his voice taking on a higher pitch. “Every ghoul I see hates me because I’ve been ‘binge-eating’ and I’m the reason why there’s so many fucking Doves in their Ward.”

Hyungwon pauses. “You’re saying that like you’re not responsible.”

Minhyuk purses his lips. “Hyungwon, why would a ghoul recently escaped from prison be quite so desperate for everyone to notice him? I’m dramatic, not stupid. It’s not difficult to replicate my feeding pattern, is it? Not when I was so dedicated in the past to making a sport out of it. Anytime I get the least bit settled, start to be able to sleep at night, Hongseok and Changgu have a feeding frenzy, the Doves come and I need to leave before the local ghouls decide to take vigilante justice into their own hands.”

Guilt washes over Hyungwon. He’d been working on those cases himself. He had signed off on those vary notices. “Oh God. Oh Minhyuk, I had no idea, I just…”

“Assumed it was me? Right, I get it though, I mean why wouldn’t it be me?” Minhyuk nods, almost sadly. “It’s my _modus operandi_ , yeah? I’m on the loose after being starved in prison, why wouldn’t I just go wild? Honestly I probably should, but I just can’t come up with the enthusiasm for those bloodbaths anymore.”

The moon is so bright tonight.

“Hyungwon, the reason you could never find me is because you were never looking in the right places.”

Hyungwon is stunned into silence.

“And believe me, I’m glad for that. Having you around is the last thing I needed, you’re like a fucking signal flare.”

He exhales. Well, it makes sense if nothing else. “Did you come to me for help, then?”

“No,” Minhyuk says. “I kinda just wanted to see you again. If that’s okay. It’s been a long time.”

Something heavy sits in Hyungwon’s throat. “Of course it is.”

Hyungwon often felt that when he left the Cochlea after talking to Minhyuk, he’d feel lighter. He wonders if Minhyuk feels the same now.

“God, you’re so different,” Minhyuk shakes his head. “Nothing like you used to be when you were a baby investigator.” He hops off the couch, makes his way to Hyungwon, just to run his hands through his hair. “Oh I missed your _hair_ , it’s so fluffy. Oh my God, you have to let me use your conditioner while I’m here.”

“Being a leader demands a certain kind of personality,” Hyungwon feels like he’s blushing under Minhyuk’s scrutiny but doesn’t stop him from brushing through the tangle of locks. “I thought I could reasonably emulate it.”

“Of course _that_ , but you’re also so much smarter. Stronger, too, I noticed. Glad my advice went through to you. God, you wouldn’t have survived in a million years if Changgu and Hongseok had come for you way back then.”

Hyungwon stiffens.

“Mm,” Minhyuk purrs, “Oh your hair is just fantastic. I’m absolutely obsessed. Mine’s been falling out because of all the damn stress, but maybe one day I’ll be able to calm down enough to have something as fabulous as this. Tell me, what’s your shampoo—”

Hyungwon pulls Minhyuk’s hand down. “What do you mean, back then? About Changgu and Hongseok?”

Minhyuk blinks in confusion. “Uh, when your headquarters were massacred? That was a thing, yeah?”

“Why would they be after me?” Hyungwon asks. “They wouldn’t even know me.”

Minhyuk’s mouth opens and closes. “Yes. Well. You’re right.”

“But?” Hyungwon prompts.

“I mean, have you never heard of a good old fashioned purge? I’m pretty sure they wanted to eradicate every trace of your branch. Seungcheol survived but that was dumb luck.”

“Yeah. And I did too, didn’t I?”

When it becomes clear Minhyuk isn’t willing to say anything more, Hyungwon releases his grip and walks straight to his corkboard. He remembers this news article, it was one of the first he pinned. He gazes up and down, fingers tracing the red string that connects everything.

“I was looking at this earlier,” Minhyuk murmurs. “It reminded me of my walls at my old house. I couldn’t help but notice that…”

“All of the articles are about you?” It’s a lot easier to say this to the board than having to look into Minhyuk’s eyes. “That would be an accurate observation.”

There’s a pause. Hyungwon is grateful for that. He has a singular focus for a very particular news article and nothing else, even if that temporarily includes Minhyuk.

“Why do you have a corkboard of information about me?” Minhyuk asks, almost cautiously. Hyungwon wishes he could see his expression, but it isn’t worth the risk of Minhyuk seeing his.

“You’re my case, aren’t you? I dedicated my life to #113. It isn’t that surprising.”

Minhyuk doesn’t say anything — but shortly afterwards, Hyungwon feels a hand enclose his own. It’s warm. Hyungwon tightens his own around it. “What are you looking for?”

“ _This_.” Hyungwon pulls off the newspaper clipping. “The date that the headquarters were stormed. The old commissioner was killed along with every single person in the building. It was orchestrated by the Ram’s Head and Rogue.”

“How’s this particularly relevant? Shouldn’t you be more focused on your fancy new team who I’m sure are wonderful, tell me, did anything happen between you and that gorgeous woman at the reception with those fantastic heels—”

His mind is filled with the mental math of calender months gone by. Hyungwon finally turns to Minhyuk. “You locked me in the sewers four days before this happened. Seungcheol rescued me three days after. That was the same day you entered police custody. I have the report right here.”

Minhyuk breaks the hold, takes a step back. “Wow, what a coincidence. Huh, you know me hey! I’m just so crazy! It’s all the murder, you know. Just rots your brain.”

Hyungwon would consider himself an expert in his babbling now. Knows what lies in the undertone of those words. “I don’t believe it’s a coincidence,” he says. “Maybe I once did, but something isn’t adding up about this, isn’t it?”

“Have you rechecked the maths?”

He ignores that. “For the past few years, I always wondered why you did that. Why _imprison_ me, that’s so unlike a ghoul. Sure, maybe I could be an emergency food source, but you’re a Binge-Eater, you’d never do something like that. The second you pierced me in my shoulder, I lost my quinque and you could have killed me, but you _didn’t_. Did you?”

*

The blood flows from Hyungwon’s shoulder like crimson tides. Forced to the ground, he grips his nails in the concrete, tries to claw his way to his quinque. He can see it now, it’s right in his line of sight. His body protests the movement, but Hyungwon compartmentalizes the agony. He will not stay down until he is dead, and not a moment before. He’s almost there, his fingers curl around the edge and—

#113 kicks the briefcase into the river. Punts it like a football. “Honestly, I think it’s really creepy of you guys to use dead ghouls as a weapon. But that’s just my opinion, yeah?”

Hyungwon watches his briefcase, his quinque, his last _hope_ , drift further and further away. He collapses, face first against the ground, tries to regulate his breathing. If just to keep his shoulder from bleeding out.

“Are you planning on killing me?” Hyungwon spits out.

#113 shrugs. “Who knows! Life’s a mystery! That’s the appeal isn’t it, that’s why we get out of bed every morning! You won’t though.”

“Because I’ll be dead?” It’s not a very fun guessing game but #113 laughs anyway.

“God, hilarious but no. It’ll be because you’ll be in the sewers. Good luck, by the way, I hear there’s like a _fuck_ ton of rats there, I hope you aren’t too scared of them.”

“Wait, what?” Hyungwon doesn’t get the privilege of clarification. #113’s kagune, grotesque tendrils, wrap around Hyungwon, squeezing him tight. He struggles to breathe, his fingers scratching as hard as possible, but it has no effect on the structure that grips him. This crimson spiral may as well be a caress.

“See you later, yeah?” is the last thing Hyungwon hears before he’s thrown into the sewers. He lands roughly in the water, a blessing in a way, but not enough. The fall _hurts_ , and Hyungwon gasps, unable to focus. The sewers are dark, not a strip of light penetrates through them besides that of the open grate that #113 flung him in through. #113 gazes down, as if this is some sort of curious game to him.

“Good luck! Remember about the rats!” His grip is on the grate mechanism.

“Wait, no, don’t, _stop_ ,” Hyungwon calls in exceedingly frantic tones. He stumbles forward, rushing as fast as he can, even as he nearly trips over himself. Darkness grows and grows as the grate closes. “No, don’t—”

He makes it just in time to watch it close in his face, #113’s deliriously red eyes shining brightly. “My name is Minhyuk, by the way. You should remember that. Write it in one of your fancy reports, I always saw you doing them, you nerd.”

*

“I wasn’t hungry,” Minhyuk offers weakly.

All Hyungwon ever wanted was this. He demanded answers, he wanted to know _why me,_ and he still doesn’t know — but he’s very close now. He gazes back at the newspaper clipping in his hand and back at Minhyuk. “You knew them before. You knew Ram’s Head and Rogue.”

“Everyone knows them, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk says. “They’re kind of hard to miss.”

“I agree. And in that same vein, if I had to speculate, I’d almost say that you _knew_ that they were going to attack headquarters. And you knew I’d be there. Why wouldn’t I? I was a Junior Investigator. I had so much work to do to build my way up, I would _always_ be there.”

“Correct, that’s why I always said that you should work less,” Minhyuk tuts his finger disapprovingly.

Hyungwon stares at Minhyuk. “You _knew_. That’s why you kept me in the sewers for a week. So I’d miss everything. You had to make sure I couldn’t get out, but you also couldn’t have me die on you, so when all the dust had settled, you told someone where I was. You told Seungcheol.”

Minhyuk’s face has never been good at hiding his emotions. He gazes at Hyungwon, helplessly. “You’re really good at your job, aren’t you? You figured that out really quickly.”

“I wouldn’t say it was quick at all. It’s been years,” Hyungwon exhales. The truth is almost euphoric, completing the puzzle that has hounded him everyday of his life since. “But why me, Minhyuk? Why me? Why not anyone else from that office, anyone more qualified, anyone smarter or more beautiful or…”

“Because none existed,” Minhyuk snaps. “Hyungwon, you seemed to figure everything out but you’re missing the most important part which is that I chose to help you. I _wanted_ to, and I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else, and I’ll never do it again. Unless it’s you. Only if it’s you.”

And Hyungwon stares, almost wordlessly. Wills the courage to say one more word. “Why?”

“Because I like you.”

It’s almost as if he’s seeing Minhyuk for the first time, that all this time he was only illuminated by shadows and lowlights, and it’s only now he’s able to comprehend the full shape, the absolute beauty.

“Come closer,” Hyungwon bids.

“Are you gonna hit me?”

“No.”

“Are you gonna kiss me?” He sounds more hopeful.

“No.”

“Oh.” Now he’s just disappointed.

Hyungwon gives an exasperated sigh. “Come here, I want to show you my corkboard.”

Minhyuk doesn’t make any attempt to hide his displeasure but obeys. His eyes sweep over the carefully curated collection of police reports, newspaper clippings, photographs, press releases, obituaries and everything in between. “It’s very familiar, but I suppose it should be. It is my life. You’re quite thorough, Commissioner.”

Taking a step back, Hyungwon is rather proud of this collection. He has the files in his office at CCG Headquarters obviously, but this is private. This is for his personal investigations, it has information that should never and indeed, will never, enter the doors of that building. “Pretty impressive. The other side is better.”

“You have another side? I had no idea you were such a dedicated fan of my work,” Minhyuk snorts.

Hyungwon flips the corkboard over, and at first glance, it’s much of the same: various papers and photographs of lengths and sizes, all connected by red thread. Minhyuk moves closer, and it’s then that the realization hits. Hyungwon can see it.

Every single note on this corkboard is written in Hyungwon’s own handwriting.

“This is all about me,” Minhyuk murmurs. “But it’s not… it’s not my kills or my whereabouts or anything like that. This is… _about_ me. You have my favourite colour. How did you even know that?”

“You told me about four months into your incarceration? You mentioned it in passing. I thought it was important so I wrote it down. You remember, I write everything down.”

Minhyuk peers closer, pulls off a scrap. Hyungwon tries not to hide his displeasure. It’s a finely curated system, you can’t just go taking bits off with no regard for the connection it has to the adjacent factors—

“Yeah I know you do, but it’s the shit that matters, like ghoul history and what occupants of the Cochlea could potentially overthrow you. All the other stuff I say is nonsense, and I know you know that. You’ve said so just as many times.”

“I don’t dispute that,” Hyungwon says. “But it’s important in it’s own way. To some people, anyway.”

“And let me guess, you’re one of them?”

“You could say that.”

Minhyuk pulls off another. “Okay, this one is literally just a numbered list of your sexual fantasies.”

Hyungwon’s eyes bug out and he grabs it, staring down. “This is a description of your old house?”

It’s hard to hear himself over Minhyuk’s laughter. “God, you should have seen your face. You _definitely_ have that written down somewhere, that wasn’t confusion — that was fear.”

Hyungwon despises him so much, he doesn’t think he can breathe without him near.

“This one is about Kihyun. I can’t believe you still remember him,” Minhyuk murmurs. “God, you really do listen to the shit I say. I don’t know, I kind of assumed you didn’t care. Like everyone else. So I just let myself run wild.”

“Well, I do listen. I always do.”

“Why bother with this?” Minhyuk asks, gestures to the board. “It won’t help you find the mystical Binge-Eater by …” he leans in, “Knowing that he thinks classical music is a waste of time. It’s meaningless, isn’t it?”

“Not to me.”

Expressing his emotions do not come easily to Hyungwon. He can cite the job as a reason, and certainly it didn’t _help_ , but as deeply as he feels, it’s far more difficult to translate it into actual words. Perhaps that’s why it helps that Hyungwon has known this fact for roughly a year already, and has already summed it up to its most concise and easily understood sentiment.

“You are the most perplexing and infuriating individual I've ever encountered in my life and I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Minhyuk’s eyes sparkle. “I don’t have a corkboard. You’ll just have to have me.” And standing in his apartment in the middle of the night, in a dressing gown and fuzzy slippers, Minhyuk pulls Hyungwon down and kisses him. Unapologetically tender.

“I missed you so much,” Minhyuk murmurs against his mouth, presses Hyungwon’s body closer and closer to his own until there’s no space left between them, until they seamlessly are inslip with each other. “I’m sorry I took so long. But what would the point be in saving your life all those years ago if something had happened? Don’t worry though, I always kept my eye on you, I always knew that you were safe.”

Hyungwon sinks himself into the kiss, lets it burn inside of him, purging months and months of yearning for his return and being unable to breathe a word of it outside of his own mind. Minhyuk squeaks against him when Hyungwon bites down his lip. Distressing how Hyungwon has started to find almost everything Minhyuk does impossibly endearing.

“You were right by the way. A list exists like that,” Hyungwon informs him when he has Minhyuk squirming against him, nuzzling his into his neck. “I’ve got an office on the top floor with with full-length windows and I think about fucking you against the backdrop of the city at least once a week.”

Minhyuk’s inhale is sharp. “Okay. Alright. Yes. We should definitely work on that, okay, that’s…” his mind seems to be overworking, “That’s a good idea.”

Hyungwon smiles into another a kiss, allows himself the privilege of being so entirely happy, so selfish. No one else gets Minhyuk, #113 has always been his case and he’ll be his for the rest of his damn life.

Minhyuk’s greedy fingers unbutton Hyungwon’s sleep shirt, his hand sliding underneath — and then halts. Hyungwon stares down, watches Minhyuk’s line of sight. He shifts from his collarbone to his shoulder. His fingers run over that scar that never quite fades away.

“That must have hurt,” Minhyuk says.

“A lot.”

“I really am sorry, but I had to. I couldn’t have you climbing out the sewer. And, well, rather me, right? Wasn’t gonna be the first time a ghoul pierces you with their kagune, and the easiest way to get through pain is to have experienced it beforehand,” Minhyuk says softly. “I’m not making excuses because that would be dumb and I’m not going to say sorry because that would be insincere — but there was thought behind what I did.”

Hyungwon covers his hand over Minhyuk’s. “I’ve grown a little fond of it. Almost reminds me of you. But also if you stab me again, I will take off another hand.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Hey, Hyungwon, you’ve been working out, haven’t you?”

“A little. Why?”

“Cool,” Minhyuk says and jumps into Hyungwon’s arms. He stumbles backwards for a moment but manages to regain himself, just in time for when Minhyuk starts attacking his neck with a mixture of teeth and tongue. He’s not _light_ by any means and it’s hard to remain upright but Hyungwon doesn’t even pretend to object. He sinks them down onto the couch together and Minhyuk grins brightly.

“You’ve been staying safe, right?” Hyungwon asks, nuzzles into Minhyuk’s neck. “You’re not sleeping under bridges?”

“Yes,” Minhyuk says dutifully, “Trust me, I’ve been in worst places. And frankly, some of the bridges were definitely better than the Cochlea. Those awful eggshell _walls_ , just disgusting.”

“And Seunghee and Seungyeon, how are they?” Hyungwon breathes.

“Oh, they’re great. I haven’t seen them for a while but last I checked they’d starting farming.”

“Good for them.” He’s still mad that they fooled him, though, he doesn’t think he’d pay for coffee from them again. Now, if it was given freely, that’s another story — Hyungwon would not turn down a hazelnut latte, even on principle. Hyungwon racks his brain for any of the number of things he wanted to ask Minhyuk over the past year.

“Remember when you told me about the 19th Ward—”

Minhyuk holds up a finger, his eyebrows furrowed. It’s hard for him to make a convincing case of being authoritative with how he’s straddling Hyungwon’s thighs but he tries his best. “Why are you asking me all these questions, are you _bored_ or something, is the only way you can get off by pretending you’re on a damn gameshow—” he breaks off. His eyes flash with realization. “You think I’m leaving again, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” Hyungwon replies.

Minhyuk presses his lips to Hyungwon’s forehead in a display so tender and gentle, Hyungwon isn’t sure how to cope. He wants to scoop Minhyuk in his arms and take him far away, hide him from the rest of the world — but he also loathes himself for even daring to feel that way. “Not soon. Not immediately. Not forever.”

It seems like all the same at first — but Hyungwon takes the time to pry the meaning hidden behind the syllables. No, it would not be feasible to permanently harbour Minhyuk in his guest room. But it’s enough to know _not forever_ , to know he’ll be back and Hyungwon is inclined to believe him as well because despite Minhyuk’s shoddy reputation when it comes to honesty: he’s here now.

Hyungwon craves this intimacy so badly it aches. His hands divest Minhyuk of his shirt. Touching has never seemed so appealing to Hyungwon until now, unable to think of all the times he looked at Minhyuk through layers of glass, unable to even breathe next to him. It’s strange, really, _experiencing_ him fully now. Educational too. Hyungwon learns that Minhyuk isn’t quiet by any means, that even if he’s beyond words, he’ll still squeak and moan with relative frequency.

“I know you’re like a nun,” Minhyuk says, and that’s definitely performative, because there’s nothing chaste about the way Hyungwon strokes Minhyuk’s cock, “But you do have lube here, right?”

Hyungwon snorts. “My bedside table. Why?”

“Why do you _think_?”

“Do you want me to get it?” Hyungwon already makes to nudge Minhyuk off his lap — but he’s planted back into the couch by the full strength of Minhyuk’s shove. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, the kind of power Minhyuk wields. He could throw Hyungwon around easily. He _has_.

“Don’t bother. Bedside table, yeah?” Minhyuk says and proceeds to unleash his kagune. It curves right through the doorway into his room without incident but the moment it’s out of sight, Hyungwon _hears_ crashes.

“Oh God, Minhyuk, no, did you break my lamp?” Hyungwon is aghast, watching the illumination from his room abruptly switch off following a particularly heavy thud.

“Found it,” he sings and retracts his kagune, placing a punctured bottle of lube into Hyungwon’s lap. There’s a massive hole in the middle.

“That was so unnecessary,” Hyungwon mourns. “You’re so unnecessary.”

Minhyuk decides to put an end to this display by grinding down so hard on Hyungwon he sees stars. He decides to temporarily forget about the property damages after that. If Hyungwon felt any nervousness, it’s entirely stripped from his mind by Minhyuk’s enthusiasm and instruction.

Fucking a ghoul turns out to be a lot like fucking a human — but he’s never been with _anyone_ like Minhyuk before, who turns each panted exhale into a song, who’s hair clings to his forehead with sweat and _insists_ upon riding Hyungwon with no room for compromise. Stretched and still unsatisfied, he sheaths himself on Hyungwon. His smirk never fades.

He should feel guilty, he knows that much. He’s the _Commissioner_ of the CCG and he’s fucking into one of the most dangerous criminals they’ve ever encountered — and Hyungwon likes it. Hyungwon _likes_ this, he likes the intimacy of being inside of Minhyuk. He likes succumbing to the obsession that’s an undercurrent of all his thoughts.

Perhaps once Hyungwon would just be satisfied with what gets given to him, but that’s not been the case for so long, not since he met Minhyuk. It’s a drive, it’s an ambition, he has to do more, be better, be stronger, be faster if he wants to live alongside him, if he wants to stand close enough to the fire without being burnt. And now, it’s the only way Hyungwon can get warm.

“What does hunger feel like to you, Minhyuk?” Hyungwon murmurs, his fingers firmly positioned on his hips.

“Is this another thing you’ll write down?”

“No.”

Minhyuk lulls his head back, lost in the sensations of Hyungwon fucking up into him. “I feel it now more than ever. In the Cochlea, it’s always there but I’m aware of it. Inside me. Was worse when I looked at you. I had to sit there in that jail cell, unable to even touch you, and I wanted so much I _burned_.”

Hyungwon shudders, from the pleasure, from the reverence, from the danger.

“Hunger is ever-present. Relentless but also… _changing_. It’s never the same at any point, sometimes it’s just a thought in the corner of my mind but other times, it consumes me. Feels like I’m being devoured by my own urges.”

“Yeah,” Hyungwon says, grips Minhyuk tighter. “I think I can understand what that feels like now.”

“Do you like having me like this, _Commissioner_?” Hyungwon could listen to Minhyuk say that word all day, stretch out each syllable until it’s sinful. “I think you do. I can feel that you do..”

Hyungwon doesn’t think he could want anyone else either. He feels like he’s on the edge of the cliff, and he doesn’t hesitate, fucks into Minhyuk harder and faster, chases his own depraved desires. When he comes, it feels as much a mental release as a physical one. His mind is a haze of pleasure, and he watches Minhyuk on his lap, and is filled with such fondness, he’s glad he’s beyond the concept of speech.

When Minhyuk is sticky and sated himself, he doesn’t seem particularly keen to move. Falls down on the couch and drags Hyungwon with him. Slipped together, there’s hardly a point of their bodies that are not in contact with each other.

Minhyuk’s hand traces over that shoulder wound again, unable to take his eyes off the scar.

“Did you ever wish that it wasn’t you? That my attention had been diverted to anyone else?”

“No,” Hyungwon says. Considers it for a moment, but the answer doesn’t change. “I always wanted it to be me.”

“Yeah,” Minhyuk says. His eyes twinkle. “I always wanted it to be you too.” 

### VISIT: COCHLEA ATRIUM TO OVERSEE RENOVATIONS — Commissioner Chae Hyungwon

“Commissioner, I do hope I’m not bothering you,” Joshua starts talking from halfway across the room and immediately rushes towards him, “but sir, Warden Cho informed me that you were going to be here and I’m here with my partner as well and—”

“Breathe,” Hyungwon says kindly.

“Sorry, sir, I did run from the station when I saw your car coming, I just never get the chance to see you and I had to _thank_ you.”

He smiles. “You don’t have to show such gratitude, Joshua, you earned your position by your own merit.”

“But I must, sir, I’ve learnt so much from Seungcheol in such a short time already, I have to thank you for assigning me to him.”

“It wasn’t me,” Hyungwon reminds him, “All I did was put in a good word. I enjoyed our time viewing the S-class cells last month. I think you’ll be an excellent investigator that the CCG can be proud of.”

Joshua beams. “Thank you so much, Commissioner. That really means so much to me. It was quite the experience being in the Cochlea and seeing the cell of the Binge-Eater. Do you have any news on his whereabouts?”

“Unfortunately not,” Hyungwon says, absent-mindedly rubbing the bite mark Minhyuk left on the back of his neck that morning, “But I’m sure he’ll show up soon. There are certain kinds of ghouls that are just so depraved, there’s no other way of life for them. Minhyuk is one such kind. I don’t think he’s able to stay away from me.”

“Of course, sir,” Joshua sounds like he’s about to start taking notes. It’s so endearing.

“Obsession is not nearly as uncommon as you might think it is,” Hyungwon says. “But don’t you worry about it. I’ll always do my utmost best to serve the CCG.”

The atrium is quiet. It always is. No one visits the Cochlea, not really.

“Sir, I’ve always wondered why #113 always targeted you in particular.”

Hyungwon smiles. “I think he just likes me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! it has been an absolute joy to return to hyunghyuk, truly. comments and kudos are very much appriciated, I'd love to hear your thoughts!! 
> 
> a reminder that this is one part of a larger collaborative au-verse with [Leesa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/pseuds/Auber_Gine_Dreams) and there's some very exciting things planned, including those hinted at in this fic! 
> 
> I have to thank hyb for helping me untangle thorny plot knots with her infinite wisdom and hannah for betaing this even as I kept claiming "I'm writing the last scene" for like four consecutive days and her motivation-boosting commentary. lastly I must thank Leesa herself for opening this au to me, and for inspiring me to write something again. it's a treasure being able to call you one of my closest friends. love you an incredible amount 💕
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pogUevMvEZxhEDSoD5fT9?si=ALKnrvevRJyt8cX92dTyEA)  
> [pinterest board](https://za.pinterest.com/auber_gine_dreams/they-call-you-angel/113/)
> 
> you can find me on:  
> \- [twitter](https://twitter.com/minhyukwithagun/)  
> \- [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/minhyukwithagun/)  
> \- under your local drawbridge
> 
> thanks for reading 💕


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